Twenty Years On
by NVSB32
Summary: Ten years after graduating high school, and twenty years after the most memorable year of their lives, a group of friends reunite.
1. Prologue: The Class of 2004

It was a picture perfect evening in early June, warm but not oppressively hot. It couldn't have been better for the commencement ceremonies of the Walkerville High Class of 2004. The graduating seniors stayed as quiet as they could through the speeches, including of their valedictorian Dorothy Ann Parker. Finally, it was time to walk one-by-one onto the stage for their diplomas, officially ending their high school careers.

After the ceremony, everyone milled about the football field, the kids posing in their caps and gowns for a myriad of pictures with their proud families. The crowd was just starting to disperse when a short, energetic Asian girl yelled out, "C'mon gang! We need one of all of us!"

The others in said gang recognized Wanda's voice, and moved towards it.

"OK, everyone line up on my left and right side," Wanda commanded.

"You just have to be in the center don't you," Keesha teased.

"It's not my fault I'm the most photogenic of us," Wanda shot back.

After a few minutes of grumbling and jostling, the group settled on the order. Arnold, Dorothy Ann, and Tim stood on Wanda's left (yes, she won the argument and got to be center). Ralphie, Keesha, Carlos, and Phoebe stood on Wanda's right. The eight posed until all their families got the shots they wanted. Once everyone was satisfied, the eight undraped their arms off each other and stood in a circle.

"I can't believe we finally made it! Freedom!" Carlos exclaimed.

"Yes, but it would've been nice if _certain_ people hadn't fallen asleep during my speech," Dorothy Ann retorted, glaring at the boys.

"Hey, give us a break," said Ralphie. "With your speech, we at least tried to stay awake."

DA rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry that graduation speeches aren't about video games, football, and girls."

Wanda stopped DA before she could rant. "Not important. We have bigger priorities than lecturing, like where the party is."

"There's a camp in the woods being assembled as we speak. Beer has been promised to be plentiful," Tim answered.

"Your artist friends know how to hook everyone up," Carlos said as he high fived Tim.

"Alright, it's settled. Meet there in an hour," Wanda ordered.

"And what if we don't want to go to a loud party full of drunks?" Arnold asked.

"Don't be a wimp, Perlstein. We're finally free from this dump. It's time to kick back and celebrate a bit," Keesha said.

"Plus, we're not going to have many chances to all be together anymore," Phoebe softly added.

Everyone groaned and eye rolled at that. "Damn it, Pheebs! No feelings talk," Wanda said, exasperated.

With that, all dissent was quelled, and the friends went back to their respective families to go home and get ready for the party. The happiness and pride they felt were the overwhelming emotions at the moment, but what Phoebe said was buried in their subconscious. The eight of them had taken their third grade experiences with Miss Frizzle with them and formed a near unbreakable bond in the years that followed. They had even mostly dated each other in almost every combination possible, to the point that the rest of the school called them incestuous. In the end though, all eight of them agreed that the whole gang together as friends was what felt right.

They were each others second families as they went through school. They went through the hellish combination of puberty and middle school together. They gerrymandered their high school schedules as much as possible to take classes together. They went to each others games, musicals, and dance recitals. They studied for the SATs together (and made sure DA didn't break her brain in the process). They protected each other (well, mostly Arnold and Phoebe) from bullies.

However, the winds of change always win out in the end. Two months after Graduation night, the eight packed up and went to mostly separate colleges. Summers came and went, but usually at least one of them had some reason to not be around. Four years later, they scattered further as they began their adult lives. The eight had hoped they would be different than other groups of high school friends, but the inevitable had happened.

The one advantage the group had over groups past was the advent of social media. Thanks to Facebook and text messaging, they could still talk and know about each other lives. Still though, it wasn't the same and they knew it. When they could a group of two or three would meet for coffee or dinner when in town of the other, but in the first ten years after high school graduation, all eight had been together just twice. The first was to help Keesha bury and grieve her grandmother. The second was to see Arnold marry his college sweetheart.

Now, ten years after graduating, and twenty years after that fateful year of field trips, the gang would get their third chance at being all together. For in early May 2014, they all received the following in the mail.

YOU ARE INVITED TO THE 10 YEAR REUNION

OF THE WALKERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL CLASS OF 2004

TO BE HELD JUNE 21, 2014 AT WALKERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL


	2. Chapter 1: Portrait of an Artist

Tim Reynolds took a look at the name written on the cup and called out "Jennifer!" The woman in question came up, grabbed her latte, and paid, leaving nothing in the tip jar. _Bitch_, Tim thought.

There were many things Tim loved about living in New York City: the sights, the nightlife, the fuel for creativity to name a few. However, the one thing he couldn't stand was the cost. New York was expensive for anyone, but especially so for a young artist still struggling to get noticed. Thus, there Tim was, humiliating himself as a "barista" for a soulless corporate coffee chain. He complained about feeling like a sell out to anyone who would listen, but his roommates were less than enthralled. They cared far more about Tim being able to pay his share of the rent than they did about his artistic integrity. Deep down, Tim had to agree. Starving artists may be romanticized in practice, but in reality the "starving" part was mostly just pointless misery.

After graduating Walkerville High, Tim took a scholarship to Boston Fine Arts College. He enjoyed the college experience and felt it helped his craft, but he knew it was no substitute for getting out and trying to make a living with his art. Ever since he was a teenager, Tim knew he wanted to live in New York, and he didn't hesitate to move there once his schooling was over. He expected it to be a struggle, but this is what he wanted to do. Occasionally Tim would sell a piece, enough to keep him going emotionally. It wasn't enough though to keep him from menial labor, at least not yet.

If there was one plus of the job other than the paycheck, it was getting off at 4 pm every day. Tim felt he worked best in the evening. After leaving work and changing into a flannel shirt and some jeans, he headed off to Astoria Park (Central Park was for tourists and posers) to people watch and to sketch. He stayed there until sundown, and then headed to the loft he shared with three other artists in Jackson Heights.

Tim arrived home to find his three roommates hanging out in the living room area. He sat down in an old brown chair with various clothing piled all over it. One of his roommates, a mountain of a man with a thick beard named Jeff, handed him a joint. Tim took a hit and passed it down.

"Another fine day at the rat races, Reynolds," Jeff said.

"Oh yes, just wonderful," Tim replied in perfect deadpan.

"Hey, we got to do what we got to do to survive until we get off the ground," said Tim's second roommate, a thin Asian man with black glasses named Brian. "On the plus side, I was able to get my band some studio time. We got to help the studio owner move, but it's worth it. Always have to hustle."

"Nice one, dude," Tim replied as the joint came back to him. Another hit. Another pass.

"Yo Tim, you got mail today," piped up the final roommate, Annie, a medium height blonde haired young woman covered in tattoos.

Tim grabbed the pile, and opened the reunion invitation. "Hmmm…ten year high school reunion next month."

"You can't be thinking of going to that. High school blows," Jeff said.

"Maybe for you it did, but I couldn't complain," Tim replied. "Could've been a lot worse."

"Yeah Jeff, don't be an asshole," Annie added. "Besides, you have all those old friends from high school, right Tim?"

Tim let out a small smile. "Yeah, and I haven't seen them in a while. Same with my parents, so yeah I'm going."

Jeff scoffed. "Lame, dude. This is why you're not going to make it big with your art. You haven't experienced enough pain and heartbreak to give you that hunger to succeed."

"I didn't realize you needed to be a broken person in order to be a successful artist. Thank you for that enlightening pronouncement. You've changed my life," Tim said in a flat, sarcastic tone.

"Seriously Jeff, stop being a dick," said Annie. "If you're so 'broken,' how come Tim has sold more recently than you have?"

"Also, stop hogging all the weed," said Brian. "My dealer doesn't get back into town until Tuesday."

"Your weed dealer is a 16 year old kid!" Jeff yelled. "Find a better dealer, cause this is pretty weak shit!"

With that, the other three degenerated into a loud argument over whatever grievances had been building up lately. Tim sighed, knowing he'd have to play peacemaker yet again.

"ENOUGH!" Tim yelled. His roommates stopped arguing and looked at him.

"I'm going to the reunion, and no I didn't think high school was a complete raging hellscape. Deal with it. Good art can come from any emotion, not just heartbreak and pain. Jeff, that's among the dumbest things you've ever said, which is saying something. You all remember the drill. Whoever gets the next big sale or gig goes to Brooklyn and buys some good weed, and until then we deal with Brian's child dealer because we're all too lazy to do any better. Now everybody shut up."

The group mumbled their agreements, and Tim went into his room. He grabbed his sketch pad, but couldn't find any inspiration, so he picked up his guitar and strummed aimlessly. He had been parts of bands in the past (it's how he met Brian), but found the grind of a musician to be too much for him. Tim still liked to play for fun though, and strumming usually got his creative juices flowing.

Tim turned and looked at the picture on top of his dresser. It was the picture of him and his friends at high school graduation. _Damn, when was the last time we were all together_, he thought. _Hell, when was the last time I had seen any of them. _He said thanks for social media, so at least they could keep tabs on each other and see how they've changed over the years. Tim looked down at himself and his 6 foot frame that had grown wirier since high school, the product of an artist's diet. His hair had gone from long to short to shaved completely over the years as he tried new things. Currently he was sporting a fade that was a bit shorter than his high school days. He was also trying out a mustache again, despite previous failures at it and much mocking from his roommate. _As bad as this is, Arnold when he tried to grow a beard was much worse. These guys should've seen that._ Tim chuckled to himself at the memory.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," he said.

Annie poked her head in. "Thanks for keeping the peace again."

"Anytime. Someone has to, especially when Jeff is being loud and obnoxious."

"Yeah, why do we keep him around again?"

Tim shrugged in response. "He's bigger than us."

Annie continued, "Don't worry about him. I think it's cool you have such good friends from back home. I can't say I do, but I guess that just made it easy to leave everything behind and come here."

"Yeah, I'm lucky in that regard. Being on my own in the big city is great, but it's nice to know there's something for me back home if needed."

"Plus, I'm sure they'll be plenty of girls who would love a quick lay with a bohemian artist living in New York."

Tim rolled his eyes at that, but inwardly was nodding vigorously.

At that moment, Annie's eyes lit up in thought. "Hey, while your home, can you grab some scrap from your dad's garage? I could use it for my sculptures. I'll give you money for shipping."

Tim nodded. "No problem."

"Thanks! Ready for dinner?"

"No. You all go ahead. I still think I can get something productive done this evening."

"OK. I'll make sure there's something left for you to heat up." With that, Annie closed the door, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts. He went back to strumming while glancing at the old photo. He grinned as an idea hit him. He grabbed his sketchbook, then the photo, and went to work.


	3. Chapter 2: Having a Soul

**A/N: **For the record, these "slice of life" vignettes of the characters are being written and published at random. I don't know which character is next until after I write most of the previous chapter. The only exception to the randomness was having Tim go first, because Tim never gets to go first. That said, this chapter has some clues to some of the other characters.

_Finally, it's Friday_, Arnold thought at his drove away from his law office. For the next 60 hours or so, he didn't have to fight DC traffic, deal with his bosses, deal with his clients, or wolf down take out lunches in 15 minutes at his desk. Don't get the wrong impression, Arnold enjoyed his work, but like any working stiff, he needed the break that weekends provided.

While he still loved rocks, Arnold has always found himself fascinated with the law, beginning when he first defended Ms. Frizzle from accusations of changing a cucumber into a pickle. That fascination took him through high school to undergrad at Ohio State and finally to Georgetown law school. His family was thrilled, dreaming of their son becoming a big city, white shoe lawyer. Arnold had different plans though.

While that year with Ms. Frizzle scared the crap out of him at the time, as he got older Arnold began to appreciate more and more the experience he and his friends had. They had seen and felt and did things that very few fathom as ever possible, much less get to actually do. Arnold knew from that point on that he wanted to do something in the name of science with his life, to help the incredible systems of nature he had seen, including his beloved rocks. He didn't have the scientific talent of DA, though, nor the activist zeal of Phoebe. It was early in college that Arnold figured it out. He would merge his love of the law with his yearning to honor his beloved former teacher.

Thus, here he was as a young associate at the biggest firm specializing in environmental law in Washington. He still had to deal with the long hours and grunt work of any associate without the corresponding fat paycheck, but that was OK with him. He made a comfortable enough salary, and had the satisfaction of standing up *for* the environment and not for those trying to destroy it. He at least still had his soul.

Arnold never planned to stay in the DC area after Georgetown, but it made sense practically, as where else is environmental policy made? More importantly, it was while at Georgetown that he fell in love.

Arnold steered his used BMW (hey, Perlsteins still like the finer things) into the driveway of his starter home in Alexandria. He loosened his tie as he exited the car and walked to the front door. He breathed deeply before opening the door, knowing it would be his last bit of quiet for a few hours.

"Daddy!" yelled Arnold's two year old son Stephen as he ran towards his father.

"Hey, my little man," Arnold said as he grabbed the boy and twirled him around in his arms. It was obvious the two were related, as Stephen already wore glasses and had unruly orange reddish hair. Arnold knew it would be a few years before those curls could be tamed. For his part, Arnold's hair remained that same color, but slightly less curly and more closely cropped. His glasses were a more stylish version of his old wire frames, while his facial features had become less cherubic as he aged. While he was never muscular, his five foot eleven frame looked perfectly healthy, the product of good metabolism and running after a toddler every day.

"Hey honey, how was your day?" asked Arnold's wife, Kathleen. The two met while he was at Georgetown and she was studying elementary education at American. Kathleen currently taught third grade in the Alexandria school system. Arnold to this day couldn't believe he had married someone with the exact same job as the Friz.

"Alright. Glad it's the weekend though. You?" Arnold responded as he let Stephen down and kissed his wife.

"The usual. Deal with 25 rambunctious kids during the day, then come home and deal with this rambunctious kid," Kathleen said with a smile as she ruffled Stephen's hair.

Arnold smiled and kissed her again. Even after a long day of teaching, she still looked as beautiful as ever to him. He loved her soft facial features. He loved her brown eyes and how they could be steely and tough when dealing with a troublemaking child, but full of love and compassion when a kid needed encouragement. He loved her long black hair. Most of all, he loved her inherent sweetness coupled with the toughness needed to teach and keep her boys in line at home. A lesser man would call Arnold whipped, but he knew better. He had found his best friend and life partner, and he thanked any deity he could think of for his good fortune.

"It's my night to make dinner, right?" Arnold asked.

"Yes. The chicken is thawed out and ready to go," Kathleen replied.

Arnold turned to Stephen. "Gonna eat some veggies tonight, kiddo?"

"No!" Stephen shook his head and ran off.

Arnold sighed. He loved his son more than anything in the world, but the Terrible Twos were just that.

Luckily for the Perlsteins, Stephen was mildly cooperative at dinner, and stayed that way through his bath and bed time. With him in bed and things cleaned up, Arnold and Kathleen sat on the couch together and held each other. The TV was on low, but neither was particularly paying attention to it.

"Look at us, not even 30 yet and we're spending Friday night staying at home like a couple of old people," Arnold said jokingly.

"Oh yeah, because we so miss the party scene," Kathleen responded sarcastically.

It was at that point Arnold noticed the mail. He saw one with a Walkerville return address and opened it. "Speaking of feeling old, looks like my 10 year reunion is next month."

"There you go. You can let out that inner party animal there."

"You don't want to come with me? What's the point of going if I can't show off how I married the most wonderful woman on Earth?"

"Well when you go with that kind of flattery, I do believe I must accept your offer, fine gentleman," Kathleen said in a fake Southern belle accent. Turning back to practically, she added, "My parents can watch Stephen that weekend, even if they won't be thrilled we're going to see Arnold's crazy friends." She added finger quotes to the end for emphasis.

"Now now, Ralphie has apologized for puking on your dad at the wedding on several occasions."

"Will your parents be mad if we don't bring Stephen?"

"They'll probably be disappointed, but they're disappointed I don't work for a K Street powerhouse and still a little disappointed I married a gentile, so what's one more disappointment."

Kathleen looked at the photo of the gang at Graduation, one of the few displayed photos in the Perlstein home that didn't feature Stephen in some way anymore. "I'm still amazed the eight of you have been such close friends since third grade. I have some great kids right now, but I highly doubt many of them will even remember each others' names in twenty years."

Arnold smiled. "As great a teacher as your kids have, they didn't have the same experiences my friends and I did."

Kathleen smiled back. "Ah yes, the famous Miss Frizzle field trips. When you first told me about those, you're lucky I didn't have you committed. Now I'm just jealous about her class sizes."

She read the reunion invitation again. "Do you think everyone will make it?"

Arnold furrowed his brow. "I honestly don't know. I'm not sure what DA's schedule is like now, or Wanda's, and Phoebe is so far away, but hopefully. It's been too long without the whole gang together. Last time I think was our wedding." Arnold sighed. "Keesha lives in this area now. We should have her over for dinner or something at some point. Facebook's great for keeping in touch, but it's not the same."

Kathleen rubbed his arm. "Welcome to getting old. It sucks, doesn't it?"

Arnold nodded. "It has its good points though." He suddenly yawned. "We better get some sleep while the little man is conked out. I can't wait for his wake up at 7 am on a Saturday phase to be over."

Kathleen leaned over to kiss him. "You said it mister."


	4. Chapter 3: Mexican Lothario

Carlos rubbed his black goatee, trying to figure out what to make for dinner. His girlfriend was at the gym, and he loved to eat, so he figured some carbs would do the trick. Cooking had always been a passion for Carlos, in part because every meal could in theory be a new experiment. He snapped his fingers in delight once he figured out what he wanted. "Some angel hair pasta, and I can whip up a sauce quick with some tomato paste and some extra vegetables. Bon appétit."

As a teenager, Carlos Ramon had a reputation as a clown at best and kind of a womanizing sleaze at worst. What few at the time knew (save the gang of course) was how intelligent and inquisitive he was, and how much he loved to experiment and try new things. It wasn't known to many, and he didn't make a big deal about it, but Carlos had one of the highest GPAs in his high school class, and was one of the few to come close to unseating Dorothy Ann as valedictorian.

Carlos forgot when exactly he decided engineering was the career for him, but the thought of solving complex problems and challenges for a career greatly appealed to him. He ended up going to Purdue (again, to the surprise of those who didn't know him very well), arguably the top engineering school in the Midwest. His classmates there first saw him as an unserious, ethnic, Ohio public school kid, and in a way, that's exactly how he liked it. He loved having to prove himself, and doing so, to some of the brightest students in the country. The only downside was, along with Tim, he was the first of the gang to leave Ohio. Carlos made new friends at Purdue, but leaving home first meant being the first to drift away from his life there.

Presently though, Carlos was back in Ohio, living in Cincinnati (two hours or so from Walkerville) and working as a hydrological engineer, focusing on improving the Ohio River. Like any young professional, he was still learning the ropes and convincing his supervisors he wasn't an idiot, but again, Carlos relished the challenge. He loved the work, and well, he was making an effort on curbing some of his other personality quirks. Bad jokes were barely tolerated by his high school and college friends. No way would they fly with stuffed shirt engineers.

For now, Carlos was back at his downtown apartment cooking up a storm, wearing his favorite Lionel Messi Barcelona jersey and a pair of shorts (his least favorite part of his job was having to wear professional clothing, or as he called it, his "monkey suit"). He was so absorbed in his latest creation that he almost didn't notice the door opening. In walked his girlfriend Martina, clad in a form fitting track suit. That's usually how she had been coming home lately, as she tried to get back into shape post busy season at her accounting job.

Carlos came to the door to greet her, "Hello, my Colombian princess." He leaned in to kiss her.

"Hello, my Mexican Lothario," Martina replied. "Are you sure you want to kiss me right now? I'm all sweaty."

"I spent years in locker rooms. I've smelled much, much worse."

Martina's nose noticed what was coming from the kitchen. "That smells delicious. I love coming home to you cooking. It's always good, and even better, that means I don't have to do it."

Carlos grinned, "Happy to be of service, my dear." He bowed down for emphasis.

Martina laughed. "Do I have to time to shower before dinner?"

"But of course."

The couple kissed one more time before Martina headed to the bathroom and Carlos back to the kitchen. The two had met four years ago and started dating soon after. Carlos still couldn't believe his good fortune. Martina was a combination of beauty and brains that made him feel completely out of his league. Unlike most accountants, she had a sense of humor, which was important for Carlos after a full day with his mostly humorless co-workers. Plus she had a great ass.

For the last few months, his old Walkerville friends had been messaging him all but daring Carlos to ask Martina to marry him. It went against everything he was during those days past, but now he knew in his heart that he would be asking sooner or later. Of course, it was going to be on his terms, not the gang's, and not until after he discussed it with her.

Martina came back, now wearing pajamas and using a towel to dry her long black hair. Carlos was setting the table. "Just in time. Dinner is served."

The two sat down to eat. While they ate, they discussed their days. It was a mini-family dinner, just like they both experienced growing up. It was especially important for Martina, since most of her family was back in Colombia.

"Did Mikey call about the business today?" she asked.

"No," Carlos replied. "I think he's been busy at work." Mikey (not that any non-Ramon was allowed to call him that anymore) was working for an emerging medical tech company affiliated with the Cleveland Clinic. However, the two brothers had been talking for months about starting a business together. Carlos would design the product, Mikey would build it, and Martina would help them out with the books. All they needed was a product idea to create and sell. That was turning out to be the hard part.

"By the way, did you get the mail? I'm expecting a training CD," Martina suddenly said.

"Oh crap. I knew I forgot something," Carlos replied, slapping his head hyperbolically. "I'll be right back."

He returned a few minutes later. "Sorry babe, nothing from the AICPA." He noticed the piece of mail with the Walkerville return address and opened it. "Hello! I've been invited to my 10 year high school reunion next month. Nice!"

Martina looked nonplussed. "That's such a US thing. I barely remember my high school classmates."

"Well, you went to an all-girl Catholic school, so that's no surprise. You were all too busy hating each other."

Martina opened her mouth to protest before realizing she had no comeback. Instead she stuck out her tongue at Carlos.

Carlos ignored it and continued. "Do we have anything going on the weekend of June 20th? The reunion is that Saturday."

Martina mulled it over. "I don't think so, unless you count World Cup binge watching, but I don't think Colombia plays that weekend, so who cares?"

"You're in America now. Root for America. USA! USA! USA!"

Martina put her hand up. "Whatever. I am rooting for both the country of my birth and my adopted country. Get over it Messi worshiper."

Carlos laughed. "I'm just messing with you. Seriously though, you up for a trip back to my 'hood?"

"Hmmm…I'd have to interact with all your 'conquests' from high school, wouldn't I?"

"Is that so bad? You can hold over them that you're the one I chose."

Martina stuck out her hand. "My ring finger would beg to differ on that."

Carlos rubbed the back of his head. "Well, uh, you see…I was getting to that, but, uh, don't we need to discuss it first…"

Martina started laughing. "I'm messing with you dear. Oh, is that fun to do."

Carlos frowned, but it quickly turned into a sigh of relief, then a smile. "Well then, are you in?"

"Yes, I'm in. Can your friends handle that I'm who you 'chose'?"

"Are you kidding? My friends love you. Remember Arnold's wedding? Every one of them warned me not to screw this up."

Martina grinned. "Glad to know I made a good impression."

Carlos nodded. "Exactly. Those seven are like my other brothers and sisters. Believe me, one of them would have said something if they didn't like you." He glanced at the photo from Graduation with a wistful expression.

Martina looked at the photo too. "This despite the fact you dated every one of the girls."

Another grin. "Yep, I was the only one to date all four, although the one date with Phoebe might have been the most awkward two hours of my life." At that point, Carlos remembered something. "Damn it! Arnold dated all four too, that Jewish playboy."

Martina rolled her eyes. "You all are weird."

"Yes we are, but you love one of those weirdos anyway."

"Yes, that Ralphie is such a dreamboat."

"Hey!"


	5. Chapter 4: Miss Phoebe

**A/N:** Thanks to all who have read and reviewed so far. Let me take this moment to state that if anyone knows how to make the details of the characters' futures more realistic, please let me know. This feels important at this point, as this is where I start to take more risks, as it were, with the futures.

Phoebe sat at her desk and listened to her client, taking notes when necessary. At the other end of the desk sat a young African American woman named Lisa.

"How am I going to get my kid into daycare if I'm working all day and can't afford it? Who's gonna watch him, Miss Phoebe?"

"Well, he's four now, right?" Phoebe asked. Lisa nodded. Phoebe turned to her cabinet and grabbed some forms.

"That means he's eligible for the Head Start program. Here are the forms to apply. We can go over the forms now if you want, or you can fill them out at home. I know that's not an immediate solution, and it's hard to get into, but for now that's the best I've got. I'm sorry."

"I've heard good things about Head Start," Lisa replied. "That would be great for Johnny to get in that. Thanks, Miss Phoebe."

Phoebe smiled. "Do you have any family, friends, and neighbors that can watch Johnny?"

Lisa thought. "My aunt lives a bus ride away. I'll ask her."

Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief. Like many in her caseload, Lisa was trying to get her life back together, in this case due to a cocaine addiction and an abusive boyfriend. Phoebe could see the potential in Lisa, and more than anything wanted to do right by her little boy. Phoebe hadn't met Johnny yet, but she had seen pictures, which was enough to melt her heart.

Phoebe took a look at Lisa. She wanted to trust that Lisa could stay clean, but experience taught her to verify such things. Fortunately, Lisa looked healthy, but Phoebe still had to ask. "Are you keeping up with your counseling appointments?"

Lisa nodded. "Haven't missed one yet, Miss Phoebe."

Phoebe still wasn't sure why most of her cases called her "Miss Phoebe," but she learned to deal with it. Nonetheless, she smiled again. "Good. Keep it up, and let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks!"

Lisa left, and Phoebe took her written notes and updated her electronic files. When she was done, she looked up, anticipating another visitor. Instead, she found that the tiny office was mostly empty. She checked her watch and saw it was almost 6:30.

"Phoebe?"

She turned and saw Mrs. Jenkins, her boss, come up to her. "Yes?"

"I'm glad I caught you before you left for the day. I have something to discuss with you."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not at the moment," Mrs. Jenkins replied. "I just wanted to ask if you've thought about what I said about getting your Masters."

Phoebe nodded. "I know I need to eventually, but the thought of more student loans right now makes my skin crawl."

"I understand," Mrs. Jenkins replied. "However, you're going to have to start soon whether you like it or not if you've ever going to advance. You're a great asset now, and we all feel you have a lot of potential, but you need a Masters to get to the next level."

Phoebe knew what Mrs. Jenkins meant. Three others joined the agency with Phoebe four years ago. Within just two years, she was the only one left. "Thank you. I'll keep thinking about it."

"You do that. Now get out of here so I can lock up."

If you asked anyone in the old Frizzle gang whose future was the easiest to predict, everyone would have said Phoebe. It was taken as a given that she would become a veterinarian and would almost certainly stay close to Walkerville to be near her father.

Even "easy" predictions can be wrong though. Yes, Phoebe loved animals and loved taking care of them, but that wasn't the only job of a vet. She knew that putting animals down was often the humane thing to do, but that didn't make any easier for her to emotionally handle. She knew it would be a problem for her early on when she would cry anytime the animal shelter had to put down an animal. She definitely knew it wasn't for her after she had the chance to shadow a veterinarian in high school. The vet had to put down two dogs and a cat that day, and it took everything Phoebe had to keep herself together.

With her most obvious career choice out, Phoebe headed for Ashland University unsure of what she wanted to do. Encouragement from her dad and best friend Keesha (who also attended Ashland) aside, she never felt herself suitable for academic or research work. In the end though, Phoebe's desire to help won out, but for people, not animals. Ashland had (and has) a Social Work program, and after one class, Phoebe knew it was for her. She would always find time to help animals, but would make helping people her profession.

Phoebe's career choice surprised her friends and family a little bit, but it was her choice of where to live that truly flabbergasted them. Of all the old gang, Phoebe was the one living the farthest away from Walkerville, all the way across the country in San Francisco. No one could believe that she would live so far away from her dad, but he had taught her to follow her heart. One year in college, she vacationed for Spring Break with Keesha and DA there, and fell instantly in love with the city. From that point on, there was no doubt where she wanted to be.

She had another reason for wanting to move out there. She knew her friends loved her and meant well, but they all seemed to think she needed protection. Maybe it was because of her sweet, innocent nature. Maybe it was because of how quiet and introverted she was. Maybe it was because she was the only child of a widowed, blind father. Whatever it was, the gang tended to treat her as the little sister of the group, and it kind of bothered her. She could take care of herself just as well as the others, damn it! In fact, thanks to her situation growing up, she learned to be independent well before the rest of her friends. Just because she was quiet, shy, and wasn't afraid to let her emotions show didn't mean she was helpless. Phoebe would never complain to them, of course, but she hoped that if she could make it in all the way out West, it would show her friends that she was capable and independent.

Thus, here she was, 2500 miles from home, working to help others get back on their feet from troubled times. Phoebe was homesick for a while, but San Francisco mostly fit her well. She found a modest apartment with a farmer's market nearby that was open on weekends, and for someone with an activist bent, there wasn't a better city to find a protest (which proved to be a problem once when she almost got arrested during an Occupy protest).

After twenty minutes of searching for a space, Phoebe parked her used Prius and headed towards her apartment building. She opened the door to find her roommate, a blonde named Caitlin, reading. Caitlin was an aide for a State Assemblyman. The two got along pretty well, at least as well as two people who arraigned their living situation on Craigslist could.

"Hey Caitlin," Phoebe greeted with a smile.

"Hey Pheebs," Caitlin replied, not looking up.

At that moment, Caitlin's cat, a black Burmese named Sadie, woke up and noticed Phoebe. The cat immediately made a beeline towards Phoebe.

As Phoebe bent down to greet Sadie, Caitlin rolled her eyes. "I remember when she was my cat. How did you become such an animal whisperer?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Couldn't wait any longer."

"It's OK. I'll just make a salad." Phoebe grabbed her mail pile and starting sifting through it. She flipped through the various charities asking for money (donate once and they never stop mailing) until something from Walkerville caught her eye. She opened it and read the reunion invitation.

"Wow. My ten year high school reunion is next week. Time just flies by."

Caitlin finally looked up. "You're going right? Those things are a blast. At mine, my old friends and I left early and got blitzed. It was great."

Phoebe frowned. "I don't know. How am I going to get there? Plus I'm not sure what my schedule looks like." Phoebe reached into her bag and took out her day planner. She flipped to June. "The AIDS walk is that Saturday."

"Somehow I don't think an AIDS walk in San Francisco is going to have a problem attracting participants," Caitlin said dryly. "And you have a month to figure it out. Take some money out of your house fund for a plane ticket."

"But what if something comes up with one of my cases? Or the animal shelter needs me? Or…"

"Jeez Pheebs, do you ever do anything for yourself?!" Caitlin interrupted, her exasperation apparent. "You run yourself ragged for everyone else, for your cases or this cause or that. Think about you for once. When was the last time you saw those friends of yours that you're so close with? Hell, when was the last time you saw your dad?"

Phoebe looked down. "You're right," she said. In a softer tone she added, "I haven't seen Daddy in months."

Caitlin smiled. "See you need this." Her grin turned playful. "Especially when you're a fully grown woman who still calls her father 'Daddy.'"

Phoebe blushed and turned away. Caitlin came up to her and touched her arm. "Hey, don't worry about it. I admire how unselfish you are. If I was capable of that, I wouldn't have gone into politics. Everyone needs downtime though."

Phoebe looked up and smiled. "Thanks. Will you be around to watch Sadie that weekend?"

"I have to help the Assemblyman glad handle at a few events, but yes, I'll be around to look after *my* cat. Does this mean you're going?"

Phoebe nodded. "As long as you promise that you and your boyfriend won't have sex on my bed again while I'm gone."

Caitlin threw up her hands. "I told you a thousand times! It only happened once, and we haven't been that drunk since!"

The conversation over, Phoebe went into the kitchen and whipped up a salad for dinner. After eating, she headed to her room, Sadie dutifully following. She changed out of her blouse and dress slacks and into her most comfortable sweats. She shook out her shoulder length auburn hair. She was still getting used to it being that short again after spending the winter and early spring growing it out and donating it for Locks of Love.

Phoebe looked around her room. Her Walkerville roots showed everywhere. There were pictures of her and the rest of the gang all over, including the one from Graduation. There were pictures of her dad, her late mom, and the three of them together. She used social media for the sole purpose of staying in touch with her Walkerville friends (she especially loved new pictures of Arnold's son). She sighed wistfully. Making friends came so easy that year with the Friz, but it had been a tough slog for Phoebe ever since. She still loved her adopted city, but throwing herself into her work and causes as she did had left her with not much of a social life. Occasionally she went out for drinks with Caitlin's friends, but Phoebe's shy, awkward tendencies didn't mix well with Caitlin's loud, boisterous political junkie colleagues.

Phoebe went to her bookshelf. _Hmmm…reading or writing tonight? Feels like a Bronte sisters kind of night_, she thought as she grabbed her copy of _Jane Eyre_. She lay on her bed and stretched out her lanky five foot eleven body. Sadie jumped on the bed next to her, curled up, and started purring. Phoebe instinctively put the book on her lap and petted Sadie with her left hand. Her right hand grabbed her aging laptop and fired up the Indians game via MLB Gameday Audio. She was never a big sports fan, but growing up her and her dad would listen to ballgames on the radio. Doing it now thanks to technology gave her a piece of home (despite the multiple petitions she's signed to get the team to drop Chief Wahoo for good).

_The payoff pitch to Brantley…Swung on and driven deep to right field…Back, back, gone!...Michael Brantley with the game winning homer, and the Indians walk-off the Tigers five to four!_

Phoebe threw her hands up in celebration, startling the cat. Phoebe apologized and waited for what she knew was coming. _3…2…1_. Her cell phone rang just as she predicted.

"Hi, Daddy!...Yes, I turned it on just to time to hear it. Hopefully that will get them going…Hey, guess what's coming up…"

**A/N:** Yes, there was a game in May 2014 between the Indians and Tigers that ended in a walk-off homer by Michael Brantley (thank you Baseball Reference as always for having such details readily available)


	6. Chapter 5: Freelancer to Explainer

This was Keesha's favorite part of her job. Her research was complete. Her interviews were conducted and transcribed. Now all that was left was to sit down at her desk with some coffee and write her story. She ignored the cacophony from the rest of the news room and buttoned down to work. She was wearing a cardigan over a dressy top with slacks, the seemingly standard uniform of all young female professionals in Washington, DC.

Journalism was always the natural career for the ever inquisitive, facts-oriented Keesha. That was her goal from day one at Ashland University, albeit as one of the few journalism majors that actually looked forward to and sought out science classes. What she couldn't anticipate however was the changing landscape of the business with the rise of the Internet and the ever shrinking newspaper industry. She grew up dreaming of being a big time newspaper reporter, but by 2008 even small time newspaper jobs were few and far between.

As a result, Keesha had to scramble to find full-time work after graduation. For the first few years, she had to move back home while taking every freelance gig she could find. At first, this meant beats at the mid-size papers of Central and Eastern Ohio. Her interest in science paid off though, as the steadiest of those freelance gigs eventually was at _Scientific American_, much to Wanda's chagrin ("You're doing the same thing my mother does!"). She also used blogging and social media as much as she could, as she quickly learned the importance of self-promotion and branding in this new world order.

For Keesha, it was years of stress and toil. She worked her butt off for little pay, less benefits, and no job security. Living at home again also strained her relationship with her mother, a strain that only got worse when her grandmother died in early 2009. A year later, Keesha happily moved into a small apartment in Walkerville.

It wasn't until 2011 that all the hard work began to pay off. _Scientific American_ hired her as a full-time staffer, allowing her to move to Washington DC and have a non-long distance relationship with her then-boyfriend again. Early this year, another opportunity presented itself. Keesha was offered a position with a new journalistic venture that sought to "explain" the news rather than just report. Being in DC, politics and (especially) policy was a huge focus, but this new site wanted to have a finger in just about everything. Keesha was hired primarily to write about science, but also to help out whenever a stray story needed covered. Such was the life of a junior reporter, which amused Keesha. She wasn't that much younger than the site's founders, but didn't have their big-time Washington cachet.

Despite that though, she was content and excited. The job brought a chance to bring something different to her craft, especially in a town that obsesses over frivolous political garbage at the expense of real substance. Her editors both allowed and encouraged deep dives into topics, as long as they could be explained in reasonable layman terms. It was different and more challenging than paint-by-numbers journalism, which appealed to her. The steady paycheck and benefits didn't hurt either.

Keesha wrote steadily for the next two hours, then reviewed and revised it for another half hour before sending it to her editor. The editor let her know that the plan was to publish the piece tomorrow morning, and that she'd have his comments by email first thing tomorrow morning. With that, Keesha packed up and drove back to her apartment in the Glover Park neighborhood.

_Casey better be making dinner tonight, or at least ordering something_, Keesha thought as she parked her Nissan and headed inside the apartment. She found Casey casually dressed and watching TV. He looked up and smiled, "Hey Keesh."

"Hey babe," Keesha replied as he got up to kiss her. Casey had to bend down because at six foot four, he towered over the five foot eight Keesha. The two had met as juniors at Ashland, and while they had been together ever since, the relationship had been slow to develop. Casey got a job in DC as a government analyst after college while Keesha was busting her butt in Ohio. The two decided to make it long distance due to her lack of job prospects at the time. Keesha getting full-time work in 2011 ended up a godsend for their relationship, as they could finally live together and determine if this was for the long haul. Two years later, the decision was made in the form of Keesha's new engagement ring.

The gang was predictably thrilled to hear of the engagement, even as they pestered Keesha to set a date already. Phoebe was quickly named maid of honor, with Wanda and DA at the ready to help with the "girly" things they didn't trust Phoebe with. Planning was slow going though, as Keesha dealt with her new job and Casey with a recent promotion. The two kept promising each other they would get on that soon, with setting a date being priority number one.

For the moment though, it was time for the normal end of the day pleasantries. "How was your day?" Casey asked.

"Not bad. Finished an explainer on coal ash, did some research on volcanic activity, and blocked three misogynistic trolls on Twitter. You?"

"Preserving the status quo of the government bureaucracy as always," he replied with a sarcastic grin.

"Did you start dinner? I'm starving."

Casey grimaced. "No, but I did do the laundry. It should be ready in about ten minutes."

Keesha gave him a Mona Lisa smile. "I'll take it. Chinese then tonight?"

Casey nodded his agreement. "Cool," Keesha continued. "Go ahead and order it, the usual for me. I'll go get the laundry and the mail while I'm down there."

The two separated to see to their respective tasks. Keesha returned shortly after. "Fold this stuff," she commanded as she plopped the laundry basket in front of Casey.

"Aye aye, captain."

Keesha turned to the mail and noticed the Walkerville return address. She opened it and gasped. "10 year reunion?! Already?! It can't be!"

"Well, we graduated high school in 2004. It is now 2014. Basic math tells me that 2014 minus 2004 is ten," Casey retorted with a smirk.

"Be glad I gave you the laundry, or I'd be throwing socks at you right now."

Casey threw up his hands in mock defense. "I'm down with going though, since I presume you want to go. Think all your friends will show up."

"They better, or else what's the point?"

"Well, we could make it a long weekend. See your family. See mine." Casey's family was from Akron, two hours or so north of Walkerville.

Keesha nodded. "Good call." She moved closer to him and started to help with the laundry. After a few minutes, she spoke up again. "You know, if we don't have *some* wedding details figured out by the reunion, the gang is going to pester us about it the entire time."

Casey thought for the moment. "You're right. Ditto our families, and to be honest, we've been engaged for a few months now. I think the afterglow has passed."

"Well, let's settle one detail tonight," Keesha proposed. "DC area or Ohio?"

"Definitely Ohio. Most of the potential guests live there and it'll be so much cheaper."

Keesha smiled. "Agreed. See, there's one decision made, no problem!" The couple high fived. "Next up, a date, a church, and save the date invitations!"

Casey fought a groan. "Just please don't turn into a Bridezilla. After my sister's wedding I can't deal with that again."

Keesha put up her right hand. "I promise to do my best. Believe me though, my bridesmaids will not let that happen."

"Good," Casey said with relief just as they heard the delivery guy knock on the door with their food. "Go ahead and wash up. I'll pay him and set the table."

"Thanks babe," said Keesha as she kissed him. As she walked to the bathroom, she stopped at the picture from Graduation (which she insisted needed to be displayed). Her thoughts were racing.

_Arnold lives in this area. Why haven't we tried to see him? I mean, yeah, he has the kid, but we could work something out eventually. Someone just has to call._

Keesha stopped at a picture of her and Phoebe, her best friend since that year with the Friz. _Note to self: Skype Phoebe soon and make sure she's going, and if she hems and haws for even a second, threaten to fly out to San Francisco and drag her back here._

With that, Keesha washed up and headed to the kitchen table. Her mind continued to race about work, the reunion, and all the wedding ideas that had built up in her head that she hadn't shared yet. For now though, it was time for dinner with the love of her life.


	7. Chapter 6: The Blur of Residency

**A/N:** For the record, Keesha was the last chapter selected at random. The last two characters I want in a specific order due to reasons that will become apparent. I figured then it makes sense to make them the last two, thus putting this chapter at this point.

Dorothy Ann Parker entered her apartment, turned on the lights, and immediately plopped on her couch. After yet another 36 hour shift at the hospital, she was too tired to move any further. She now had a precious 48 hours off, and for the most part, all she wanted to do during that time was sleep. Unfortunately for DA, her mind had different ideas, and its constant activity was overriding her exhausted body. After a few minutes, a disgusted DA sat up and decided she might as well do something productive.

She went back outside to grab the mail that had piled up over the last few days. Heading back inside, she dropped it on the coffee table, then headed to her bedroom to change from her scrubs to pajamas. She took her long blonde hair out of her ponytail (she had long ago ditched the pigtails) and gave it a quick brush. She washed up and brushed her teeth, all the while her brain continued to go over the mistakes she had made during her shift. None of the mistakes were a big deal. She hadn't accidentally killed anyone and wouldn't face a malpractice suit or anything, but DA expected perfection from herself in anything she did. That meant there was always room for improvement.

Achievement was always a high priority in the Parker household. DA's parents expected much from all four of their daughters. As the third of the four, Dorothy Ann had seen what the expectations were, and sought out to exceed them. Books became almost an extension of her body since the time she learned to read. Academics in her family were almost a blood sport, and it was no surprise when DA became her high school class's valedictorian (the third in the Parker family to do so after her father and oldest sister). That plus a myriad of extracurriculars impressed Ohio State enough to award her a full academic scholarship. Her parents had hoped something like that would come from a top private school, but were happy with the most dominant university in the state (which happened to be close to home to boot) showing that much interest. Dorothy Ann, for her part, was happy to have a full ride to college when most of her friends were taking on debt, as well as the safety of being somewhat close to home and going to the same school as some of her friends.

The first major fork in the road for DA came as her undergraduate career started. Her first love had always been astronomy, although just about any form of science fascinated her. However, she had seen NASA's work become more and more deemphasized over the years and wondered if she could secure her future in that field. She had also seen how hard establishing a career in academia could be via her sister, who was still struggling to find a tenure track job four years after graduating. Dorothy Ann knew many of her friends would choose to go for the dream, but for her, practicality won out, and she went for her second choice, pre-med. The human body had always fascinated her, especially after going inside Arnold three times and Ralphie once.

Not surprisingly, DA excelled at Ohio State, nearly ending up valedictorian again. Her talent, grades, and hustle got her accepted into Yale Medical School (one upping her parents, who both went to Colombia). For DA, it was like stepping into a different world. Back in Walkerville and even in Columbus, she was considered to be one of the "blue bloods," the product of having two accomplished professionals as parents in a working class area. At Yale though, "blue bloods" took on a whole new meaning. To many of her fellow medical students, Dorothy Ann was some nobody blonde with an ample bosom from public schools in a flyover state. How could she possibly make it among the best of the best?

Someone with a weaker constitution might have been intimidated. Dorothy Ann was not one of those people. She somehow found another gear and worked harder than ever, finishing in the top ten of her class. In May 2012, she officially became Dr. Parker.

Since that day two years ago though, life has been a blur of long shifts, wide-eyed experiences, and the still constant hitting of the books that make up the life of a medical resident. DA was matched to a hospital in Hartford for her residency. It made moving from New Haven easier, but that was really the only plus in her mind. She had two immediate professional goals: choosing a specialty and getting out of Hartford.

Dorothy Ann sat back on her couch and looked around the apartment. The place was practically barren, with some random furniture that didn't go together making up the living room and not much else. It barely looked lived-in. It did at one point, back when DA had a steady boyfriend. They broke up four months ago though, the result of her breakneck work schedule and the drive to succeed that came with it. There was no time for anything else, including a relationship. DA had been so consumed with work that it still barely registered. A part of her, somewhere inside, felt bad for the demise of the relationship, but her practical aside assured her it was for the best. Her priorities were elsewhere at the moment, and it wouldn't be fair to him, or anyone else, to be beholden to that.

After another failed attempt at quelling her brain, DA grabbed the mail and started to sort. _Bill…junk…bill…junk…_She came across one with a Walkerville return address. _What's this? _She opened the letter and read the reunion invitation.

"Ugh! How am I going to make time for this?"

DA walked to her purse to grab her planner. She flipped to June and found that she actually had that Thursday through Sunday off, a true rarity. _What a lucky coincidence._ Acting on a hunch, DA grabbed her phone and turned it on for the first time since her shift started. As she suspected, there were texts from Keesha, Carlos, and Ralphie asking if she was going to the reunion. She grinned mischievously. "I'll let them know soon enough. Make them sweat a little."

She put the reunion date in her phone, and made a mental note to make 100% sure she wasn't going to be on call those four days. She also texted Tim to see what his plans were. She figured she could drive to New York and pick him up, and get a second driver for the rest of the trip in return.

At that point, DA realized that all she had done was substitute thoughts of work to thoughts of planning the trip back to Walkerville, which wasn't going to make getting to sleep any easier. She put the invitation back on the coffee table and put the bills in her inbox to deal with tomorrow. She headed to the bedroom yawning (_Success!_). Save for the unmade bed and some clothes piled up in a corner, the bedroom didn't look any more inhabited than the rest of the place. DA stopped at her dresser and looked at the picture from Graduation, one of the few things in the room that made it clear it was hers.

_Are we finally all going to be together again? Damn, we used to think we'd be different. Can't imagine why when we all had our own thing going. Thank God for the Internet. At least we won't have to waste time telling each other what we're doing. Well, maybe Wanda._

DA thought back on her med school graduation. The gang had pledged to try and be there for each others major life moments back at Arnold's wedding. However, when DA walked on stage, only Carlos, Keesha, and Tim where there to cheer her on. DA knew she couldn't get mad though. Ralphie and Wanda were previously occupied, Phoebe was on the other side of the country (and did send flowers and a nice card), and Arnold was dealing with a baby at the time. That's life, especially once adulthood hits, and DA knew it wasn't something she could control or get mad at. Of course, she still didn't have to like it, and she suspected the others didn't either.

Dorothy Ann put the picture down and crawled into bed. Day off or not, she had a lot to get done tomorrow and she needed a refreshed mind and body to do it. She had 46 more hours before her next hospital shift.


	8. Chapter 7: Two Bad Knees

**A/N:** This seems as good a point as any to note that I am not the owner of these characters (save those created in the story). I'm just borrowing them and hoping those who do own the characters don't notice.

Officer Ralph "Ralphie" Tennelli of the Walkerville PD sat in his cruiser on the shoulder of I-70, radar gun in hand. It was a sleepy Thursday morning, and thus most of the drivers on the road had been well behaved. It meant Ralphie would get ribbing back at the station about not writing enough tickets, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to mess with someone's day just to satisfy his more boorish colleagues. All he could do is remain vigilant and be ready if something did arise.

Frankly, this was not how Ralphie envisioned his future when he graduated high school. Back then he was the Big Man on Campus, a star in football as a linebacker and a superstar in baseball as a slugging first baseman. His baseball success earned him a partial scholarship to Ohio State, fulfilling an early dream of Ralphie's to be a Buckeye. On the field, he hit the ground running, leading the team in home runs as a freshman as they won the Big Ten tournament. Ralphie was already being compared to the last Buckeye star first baseman, Nick Swisher (who had been a first round draft pick two years prior).

Ralphie was always a big dreamer, and the good start to his college career pushed his dreams of big league stardom into overdrive. That's why he didn't protest when the academic advisors steered him towards a less than rigorous major. That's why he didn't study as much as he should have. His mother protested, but in Ralphie's mind, baseball was his ticket, and good luck to anyone who tried to convince him otherwise.

Ralphie continued to enjoy life as a sophomore and junior. He remained Ohio State's best player, and around campus was treated like a big shot without the suffocating attention given to the football players. He even achieved another dream by getting drafted by a major league team after his junior year (albeit in the 34th round and without a bonus off large enough for him to leave school).

The process of getting drafted though was an eye opener for Ralphie. While there were some aspects about his game the big league scouts liked, they had some significant concerns as well. Ralphie's statistics were good, but not overwhelmingly dominant given that the Big Ten wasn't exactly a glamour baseball conference with top competition. The scouts were also concerned that Ralphie was already just a first baseman. Despite his muscular 6 foot 3, 235 pound body, the scouts doubted that Ralphie was athletic enough to play anywhere but first. That wouldn't necessarily be bad, but they also didn't think Ralphie's power projected to what is needed from a professional first baseman.

To his credit, Ralphie took the criticism seriously. He spent the summer and fall after his junior year working on his flexibility and athleticism. He talked with his coaches about getting playing time in the outfield for his senior season. He worked on his power stroke while trying to keep his keen batting eye (the one attribute scouts really liked), no easy task.

It was all coming together, Ralphie thought. He would crush his senior season, get drafted again, and move on to pro ball. Then came an early season game in March during one of those tune-up trips to Florida college teams take early in the season. Ralphie was playing right field for just the second time in his college career. He got a late read on a fly ball, and in his haste to recover and make the catch, his right knee buckled. Ralphie crumpled to the ground, and when he tried to get back up, the pain overwhelmed him and he fell right back down. He would later be diagnosed with a torn ACL, ending his season before it could really get going, and worse, dropping him off any scouting radars.

The one silver lining is that Ralphie was granted a medical redshirt, thus allowing him to play next season. The outfield experiment was abandoned. Ralphie worked harder than ever to make the start of the season, but struggled out of the gate as he tried to get his hitting timing back. He was finally starting to hit again when disaster struck. It was a late April game, and the ground was damp due to a pregame rain shower. In his first at-bat of the game, Ralphie took a mighty hack at the ball, but during his follow through, his left leg got caught in the wet dirt and twisted awkwardly. Down again went Ralphie, this time with ligament damage to his other knee. Season over. College career over.

Desperate to keep his dream alive, Ralphie rehabbed again and signed with an independent league team for the 2010 season. However, two years of inactivity had taken its toll on both body and mind. He was now bigger, bulkier, and less athletic. Mentally he was a bigger mess. He felt that to get picked up by an MLB organization, he had to show power and lots of it. As a result, he ignored his selectivity and started swinging for the fences every time. In mid June, hitting .150 and leading the league in strikeouts, Ralphie was released. He was 24 years old and the dream he had for almost all of his life was dead.

Stuck with two bad knees and a sociology degree that was essentially useless for future employment, a dejected Ralphie had no choice but to move back to Walkerville. Luckily, his mother was willing to take him in again on the condition that he do something other than sit on the couch and mope. Ralphie did some odd jobs, mostly bartending. More importantly, he tried to figure out what to do with his life. Aimless drifting can have its moments in ones' mid twenties, but it can get old real fast, especially while still living at home.

In 2012, the dreamer finally found something new to shoot for. It wasn't a big league career. It wasn't even Weatherman, but it was something. The year in Ms. Frizzle's class gave Ralphie an appreciation for solving problems, and that plus an overdose of reruns of cop shows made him think he could become a detective. It was perfect. He could figure things out, help people, and put away bad guys. He would be giving back to a community that still loved him based on his athletic glories, but this way he wouldn't just be coasting on the past but actually contributing to Walkerville as an adult and not as an object of entertainment.

Unfortunately, reality again undercut Ralphie's imagination. The police department was happy to have him on board, but a detective job wasn't available for rookies, and wouldn't be for quite some time. Ralphie would have to cool his heels for a while as a regular beat cop. Feeling he had no choice, Ralphie accepted. Thus, two years later, he sat in a squad car waiting for someone to commit a moving violation. These down times were always dangerous for Ralphie, as he tended to stay in his head, playing back the moments of his life and the decisions he made that led him to this point. Ralphie knew it wasn't productive, but he couldn't help it.

His revelry was broken by a red Mazda speeding down the freeway. Ralphie checked his radar gun: 84 mph. He turned his lights and siren on and pulled into traffic to grab the offending car. The driver pulled over without a fuss.

As Ralphie got out of his car and walked to the Mazda, something about the driver's black hair in a bob looked familiar. Then he saw the PILOT LI license plate. _No way. No way. Can't be. No way._

Officer Tennelli approached the driver's door and came face to face with Wanda Li.

"Wanda?!" Ralphie blurted out before remembering he had a job to do. "I mean, license, registration, and proof of insurance please."

Wanda was just as stunned. "Ralphie? C'mon, really?"

"Please follow my instructions, ma'am."

"OK, OK! Just don't ever call me ma'am again." Wanda handed Ralphie her license and dug through her glove compartment for the other documents.

"Thank you. Were you aware that were you going 84 miles an hour in a 65 mile per hour zone?"

Normally, Wanda would try to argue her way out, but the shock of getting pulled over by one of her closest friends sapped her will to fight. "Um, no, Officer, I was not aware of that, but I guess the radar director doesn't lie, does it?'

Ralphie handed Wanda back her documents, as well as a speeding ticket. "Fine is $150 plus court costs. Please attend court on your designated date and time."

Wanda took the ticket. "Uh, noted. Thank you, um, Officer."

Ralphie rubbed the back of his neck. "So, uh, how are you doing, Wanda? Where have you been?"

"You just pulled me over and now you want to make conversation?! What the hell, Ralphie?!"

"Look, the professional part with Officer Tennelli is over. This is Ralphie wanting to know how a good friend he hasn't seen in a while is doing, OK?"

Wanda mulled it over for a minute. "I'm doing alright, and I've been…places."

"Where are you headed now?"

"Back to Walkerville for a while. See the fam. Visit the old haunts. Figure out what I want to do with myself."

Ralphie nodded and rubbed the back of his neck again. It was only a minute of silence, but it felt like an eternity. Wanda looked at him funny before speaking. "So, uh, how are you?"

"Oh you know, protecting and serving the fine citizens of Walkerville."

"By pulling over your friends?"

"When I clock them at 84 in a 65, yes."

Wanda continued to probe. "Is that what you were hoping to do when you joined the force?"

More neck rubbing and nervous twitching. "No, but you got to start somewhere. I can't just throw my weight around and become a big shot right away. Plus, I get to wear the uniform and badge, and chicks dig men in uniform."

Wanda smirked. "Never change, Ralphie."

Another awkward pause, until Ralphie remembered something. "Hey Wanda, I don't know if you got the notice, but our 10 year reunion is on the 21st."

"No, I hadn't. I move around too much, so the bastards can't find me."

"Well, I'm sure your invitation is somewhere in the mail. If not, consider this your invite."

"Thanks. Are the rest of our friends going?"

Ralphie pulled out his phone. "According to the texts I've gotten, yes. The only one who hasn't responded yet is DA, and I figured she's either forgotten to turn her phone on in a while or is messing with us."

"OK then. If that's the case, count me in."

After a few more minutes of semi-awkward small talk, Ralphie tipped his hat. "Have a good one, Wanda, and if you're sticking around a while, give me a call if you want to hang out. I'm not always in uniform." Ralphie paused, then lifted his finger. "Oh, and slow down will ya? I don't want to get an accident call and have to scrape you off the asphalt."

"OK Ralphie. See ya. You're still a bastard for pulling me over though."

Ralphie headed back to the squad car and watched Wanda drive off. He couldn't get the encounter out of his mind though, and it took all his concentration to keep on task the rest of his shift. Once it ended, he headed back to his house (if nothing else, he at least had his own place, even if it was a rental) to recharge.

Now dressed casually, Ralphie lounged on his couch with ESPN on the TV, not that he was absorbing any of it. He was looking at the Graduation photo deep in thought.

_It's amazing how young we all look, so full of potential, and for the most part, we're getting there. It's incredible. Why do I feel so behind though? I serve the people and the community. I should be prouder of that, but it still feels like a disappointment._

He turned on the Indians game. It was time for the nightly ritual of turning on a baseball game and seeing if he could get through it without thinking about what might have been. Two minutes in he turned the TV off in disgust, ending that battle for another night. Before Ralphie could figure out what to do with the rest of the evening, his phone rang. The ring tone told him immediately who it was.

"Hey Ma," Ralphie said as he picked up the phone.

"Hi, Ralphie. How was your day?"

"Alright I guess. I saw Wanda today, of all people."

"Wow. Let me guess. You pulled her over for speeding?"

"How did you know?"

"I've known Wanda since you both were in elementary school too. I know how she is."

"Uh, good point Ma," Ralphie stammered.

Dr. Tennelli pressed on. "Anyway, I called because I have some leftover calzones. Do you want me to bring them over for you?"

On the other line, Ralphie grimaced. His mother's calzones hadn't gotten any easier to stomach over the years. "No thanks Ma. I already ate."

Ralphie could almost hear his mother's frown through the phone, if such a thing were possible. "OK then Ralphie. Talk to you later, and try to visit me once in a while, will you?"

"I will Ma. Love you." Ralphie hung up in frustration. His mother had never been this protective of him when he was a kid. He guessed it was a combination of the trauma of how his baseball career ended coupled with the danger of his current job. Ralphie knew she meant well, but damn if it wasn't annoying dealing with latent helicopter parenting.

Having nothing better to do, Ralphie sat in his living room and did his knee strengthening exercises. It was far from his favorite activity, but his doctors were clear that they were necessary to prevent further damage and keep him from reduced mobility as he got older. While the exercises helped, they also served as a reminder of the scars of his past, both physical and mental.

Ralphie's exercises were interrupted by the chirping of his phone again. He grabbed it to find a text from Dorothy Ann saying she intended to go the reunion. _Bout time you responded DA._ Ralphie smiled for the first time all day. The reunion was in three weeks, and it appeared that the whole gang would be there. Determining if everyone would make it opened his eyes to how much he missed them. Ralphie went back to his exercises with more gusto, mixing in some stomach crunches. If nothing else, he wasn't going to be one of those jocks who shows up to his high school reunion with a potbelly and a receding hairline. No matter how he felt inside, he was going to put his best face forward on the outside.


	9. Chapter 8: Nomadic Wanderlust

Wanda cruised towards Walkerville still trying to process what just happened. Getting pulled over was bad enough, but of all the cops in the area, it was _Ralphie_ that did the deed? Wanda knew of his new career move, but what are the odds? What made it worse is that Wanda didn't want many people to know that she was back in town. That plan was likely torpedoed now that Ralphie knew, since he usually could never keep a secret. Admittedly though, knowing about the upcoming reunion did the change the calculus of the situation for her.

There was a reason Ralphie asked Wanda where she was headed. She had been living quite a nomadic existence lately, and not for the first time. It started right out of high school. She began attending Ohio State, but the freedom and excesses of college quickly got to Wanda. Even though Arnold, DA, and Ralphie were also on campus, they were busy with their own lives, leaving Wanda to her own devices. Her sense of adventure and spontaneity took over, overwhelming the responsible part of her brain. She dropped out after one semester having focused little to nothing on her studies. Her mother, infuriated and no longer trusting of her daughter, forced Wanda to transfer to Walker State. Being restricted to home just made Wanda rebel more, and the Walker State experiment also lasted all of one semester.

It wasn't just excess partying that derailed Wanda. She had no idea what to do with her life. The rest of her high school friends either knew before they got to college or figured it out quickly, but Wanda remained lost on that front. She tended to get interested in something and become obsessed with it for a while before losing all interest. The ultimate problem with that pattern is that it is not conducive to successful long term planning.

Feeling both maternal and internal pressure, Wanda buckled down the summer of 2005 to figure herself out. As she usually did when she needed guidance, she thought back to her year in Ms. Frizzle's class. More than anyone else in the gang, Wanda cherished those days and was determined not to let those experiences fade from her memory. She wrote down the details of every field trip after each one, and as the years passed, made sure to keep rewriting those notes to keep it fresh (and to keep the handwriting legible). As Wanda looked at her notes, the one trip she kept reminiscing about was when she flew a plane. She realized that the freedom and wonder of being up in the sky never left her, no matter what she was obsessed with at any given time.

With that, Wanda decided flight school was for her. Unfortunately, her mother, having been burned twice already with hefty college bills, put her foot down and refused to pay for it. Undeterred but impatient, Wanda figured that if she couldn't fly planes yet, she could still be around them and learn how they worked. Thus, in September 2005, Wanda enlisted in the United States Air Force.

It might have behooved her to remember the United States was fighting two wars at the time.

After Basic Military Training, Wanda (now mostly known as Airman Basic Li) was assigned to Shaw Air Force Base in South Carolina to learn to be a mechanic for the 55th Fighter Squadron. She took to both the trade and the discipline of the military in a way that would have shocked anyone who had known her in Walkerville. Wanda was not dumb, but she could be impulsive and reckless if given enough rope. When given structure (and what has more structure than the military) she could stay on task and even thrive. She would need that structure and discipline when her squadron was deployed to Iraq in 2008.

Wanda spent three years, four months, and twelve days total in Iraq over four separate deployments. At first, she was excited in spite of herself and knowing intellectually that war was an awful thing. That attitude changed very quickly, both for her and her squad mates. It changed after each time one of the pilots came back with a thousand yard stare and a story of destruction. It changed after each fire that raged across the sands with seemingly no end in sight. It changed after each time walking by each civilian that looked confused and terrified, all while not knowing what their true intentions might be. It changed after each time walking by mutilated and decaying corpses on the side of the road. It definitely changed whenever a squad member came back with severe injuries, or if they didn't come back at all.

During her four deployments, Wanda saw a lot, and most of it wasn't good. She considered herself lucky though. Her squad mates that fought in direct combat saw and experienced much, much worse. It was enough though to imprint a certain hardness to the formally fun loving, adventurous young woman. Eyes that were once passionate and probing were now cold and almost empty looking. Wanda hoped some of what she once was still hidden deep inside, just needing some distance from the military before coming back out of hibernation.

After the fourth deployment, Wanda (now Staff Sergeant Li) couldn't take it anymore and didn't re-enlist. It was September 2013 and she was to back square one. She had given eight years of her life to her country, and while she was rightfully proud of that, she still wasn't sure what she got out of it. In that time, she had seen her family only sparingly, and her friends even less. It was only by lucky coincidence that she wasn't in Iraq at the time of and could attend the two most significant post-high school events (Keesha's grandmother's funeral and Arnold's wedding). Otherwise, Wanda had no face-to-face contact with any of her longtime friends in the ten years after high school. Thanks to the Internet she knew what was up with them: _Oh, Keesha got a new job…Oh, Phoebe moved to the West Coast…Oh, Ralphie's a cop now…Oh, Arnold had a kid…Oh, DA graduated med school._ Thus, Wanda at least had some idea about her friends' lives. They had very little idea about hers.

Her military career over, the obvious next move was to finally enter flight school. That was still Wanda's long-term plan, but she wasn't quite ready yet. Her brain still needed to process everything she had experienced, plus a part of her still wanted some adventure, albeit in much safer conditions. So, she started driving with no intention on stopping. Over the next few months, she saw much of the country (making sure to spend lots of time in Colorado for some legal weed). She stayed with old Air Force friends who had gotten out before her when she could, and random couches when she couldn't. Wanda was willing to go just about anywhere, except for where her Walkerville friends were located. They were used to the old Wanda, and she wasn't ready to introduce them to this Wanda quite yet.

Drifting around the country is only sustainable for so long though, and with nowhere else to go, Wanda had no choice but to head back home. That's where she was headed in her now very used Mazda with the PILOTLI license plate (which wasn't true yet, but existed as a tangible reminder of the end goal). That's where she was headed when Ralphie- er Officer Tenelli, pulled her over.

Wanda finally made it to her old house, a charmingly aging brick two story. Her mother was home and didn't even wait for Wanda to get to the front door before running to her and enveloping her in a huge hug.

"Mom! Calm down!"

"No way. I've dealt with you being in a war zone for four years, and I didn't say anything when you didn't come home right away after your discharge. You owe me this missy."

With that, Mrs. Li started crying. So did Wanda, despite of herself. Years of having to keep her emotions in check gave way. It finally hit Wanda all the sacrifice, worry, and dread her family went through while she was deployed. Her mother was right. Wanda owed them her presence, if for no other reason than to show she was here and not going back.

"I missed you too, Mom, and don't worry, I think I'm going to be sticking around this area for a while. I'm a little traveled out."

"We'll see," Mrs. Li responded with a smile. "I did raise you, you know. Your nomadic wanderlust will come back at some point."

At that moment, Wanda's brother William came out, necessitating another emotional reunion. William had just graduated from college, but was still looking for full-time work.

"Hey bro," Wanda said as she embraced him. "How you been?"

"OK," William replied. "Glad to see you for once in my life."

Wanda lightly hit his arm. "Glad to see you're still a little shit."

Mrs. Li laughed. "Yep, these are my children."

Three hours later the family was sitting down for dinner. The three sat down and looked us each other, not sure what to say until Mrs. Li suddenly laughed.

"You know, now that I think about it," she started, "isn't the end goal of parenting to get your children out of your house? Yet here you two are."

"Jeez Mom! You're tired of us already?" Wanda shot back.

"Oh no, it's not like that, but both of you need to understand right off the bat that this is not a permanent arraignment."

This time William spoke first, "We know Mom. I'm sending resumes off every day. Believe me, I would like to start adulthood just as much as you want me to."

Mrs. Li nodded. "Wanda?"

Wanda sighed. "I need a bit to decompress and to figure some things out, but yeah, I'll be sure to be out of here soon."

Mrs. Li nodded again. "Good. You can start by not getting any more speeding tickets."

"Ugh! Why did I tell you that?"

"Because you need to come up with $150 in the next two weeks. Sorry, the bank of Mom is closed."

Wanda buried her face in her hands. Mrs. Li laughed and patted Wanda on the shoulder. "Hey, at least you got to see Ralphie. I see him around town sometimes, and he asks about you all the time. All your friends do whenever they're in town."

Wanda couldn't help but smile knowing her friends still cared. "Well, it looks like I'll get to see them soon. Ralphie told me our 10th year high school reunion is on the 21st."

William pumped his fist. "Alright, one night when you won't be around!" He ducked Wanda's impending hand.

Mrs. Li frowned. "It's been one day and you're already acting like children again. Why am I not surprised?" She took a deep breath. "Are you going to the reunion, Wanda?"

"Yeah. Now that Ralphie knows I'm in town there's no way I'm getting out of it, even I wanted to. It would be nice to see the gang again. It's been too long."

Her mother nodded. "Yes, I'm sure they would love to see you, if nothing else to prove you still exist. Now, can we please eat without bloodshed."

After dinner, Wanda settled into her old room. At least it was technically her old room. It had long ago been converted into a guest bedroom, to the point that one couldn't tell Wanda had previously lived in it. She was surprisingly fine with that, and had no intention of personalizing the room again. The bareness reminded that this was to be a temporary way station in her life. She couldn't get too comfortable.

Wanda reached into her bag and took out the picture from Graduation. She made sure to have it every where she went, even Iraq. Wanda started at it and sighed deeply.

_Damn, we all look so happy in this picture. *I *look so happy. I don't think I've felt that good since. _Wanda suddenly felt tears welling up. _Oh come on, don't be a weasley wimp. We're all going to be together again in a few weeks. That's going to be awesome. It's a happy time. The war is over. You don't have to go back there. Your life is finally back in your hands. It's time for kick-ass Wanda to return._

Weary from travel and trying to give herself a pep talk, Wanda put the picture away and crawled into bed. She hoped the familiarity of home would help her sleep better this time.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has read so far, especially given that so far it's essentially been over 15,000 words of text with nothing actually happening. There is one more chapter before we actually get to the reunion, so hang tight.


	10. Chapter 9: Back to Ohio

**THURSDAY, JUNE 12 SAN FRANCISCO, CA**

Phoebe was relaxing in her bedroom when she noticed an email from Mrs. Hopkins, the Director of the Walkerville Animal Shelter. Mrs. Hopkins had always considered Phoebe her best (and most persistent) volunteer, and the two had kept in touch after Phoebe moved away.

_Hey Pheebs!_

_I hope you're doing well. Things are humming along as always here at the shelter. I heard your reunion is next week. Are you going? If so, let me know. There's something I want to discuss with you while you're in town if you can spare the time._

_Take care,_

_Julia_

As she replied, Phoebe wondered what Mrs. Hopkins wanted. She made a mental note to meet with her. If nothing else, she wanted to know how the shelter was doing.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 13 WALKERVILLE COURT HOUSE WALKERVILLE, OH**

Wanda arrived an hour before her designated court time. Luckily, she had earned some money doing odd jobs for neighbors while they were at work, and thus had the $150 to pay her speeding ticket.

At the courthouse, she saw Ralphie in uniform and approached him.

"Testifying against me? What kind of friend are you?"

"Are you fighting it? If so, then yes I am. It's part of my job."

Wanda smiled. "No, I'm not fighting it, and I understand. Just teasing you."

Ralphie tipped his hat. "Good." After a pause, he continued. "You look good, Wanda."

She looked at him funny. "How did you expect me to look? Like a burnout?"

Ralphie stammered, failing to come up with a response. Wanda sighed and touched his arm. "I know what you meant. I've been getting that a lot. Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. Really."

"OK, Wanda. I gotta go. See you next week at the reunion." Ralphie tipped his hat as he left, leaving Wanda to head into the courtroom.

**WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18 SAN FRANCISCO GREYHOUND STATION**

Phoebe picked a seat and hoped it wasn't sticky. Upon sitting down, she breathed a sigh of relief and attempted to get comfortable for the very long ride ahead. Despite Caitlin's badgering to buy a plane ticket, Phoebe stuck with the bus to save money. In hindsight though, Phoebe was regretting that decision, especially since it meant two extra days away from her cases. For someone who almost never took days off, it felt wrong to be away that long, no matter how much her boss encouraged her to relax and have a good time for once.

Behind her, Phoebe could hear someone praying to the porcelain god in the bathroom at the back of the bus. She let out a world weary sigh and grabbed one of the books she had brought for the trip (_I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings_). As the bus pulled away, she put on headphones, grabbed an energy bar, and opened her book. Looking at the scenery on the cross country trip could come later.

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19 8:37 AM NEW YORK CITY **

A frazzled Dorothy Ann pulled up in front of Tim's apartment building. She had just picked up her phone to text him when he came out with his roommate Annie.

"Have a great time, Tim. Don't do anything too crazy," said Annie as she gave him a light hug.

"Thanks. Don't worry. I'll get you that scrap metal."

"Awesome! You're the best." She turned to DA in the car. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? I'm Annie, one of Tim's roommates."

The two shook hands through the driver's side window. "Nice to meet you. I'm Dorothy Ann, aka DA. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'd like to get to Walkerville at a decent hour."

"Oh, no problem. Have a great time."

As Annie went back inside, DA got out of the car and turned to Tim. "You're driving for now. Getting here after entering the city was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life."

Tim laughed and got in on the driver's side. "Welcome to New York, DA."

DA entered on the passenger's side. "Thanks. I'll take over somewhere in Pennsylvania."

With that, the two took off. The first hour was mostly spent in silence as they concentrated on getting out of the city. Eventually, Dorothy Ann spoke up. "It was nice that one of your roommates saw you off."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. Brian had a gig last night, so he earned his sleep, and anytime Jeff wakes up before 10 he's an ogre all day, so it was for the best he wasn't there."

DA looked at him probingly. "Just please tell me you noticed that Annie likes you."

"What?! C'mon DA, don't revert back to high school before we even get to the reunion."

DA put up her hands. "C'mon Tim. She's an artist that got up early for you. I saw her smiles and affection towards you. Is she like that with your other roommates?"

Tim thought about it a moment. "No, she's not," he said flatly.

DA smiled. "I may not do much psychological field research, but it seemed pretty obvious."

Tim sighed and made it clear that the topic was to be dropped, and an exhausted DA soon fell asleep.

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19 10:23 AM WASHINGTON, DC**

As she and Casey finished packing, Keesha went over the trip plan. "Alright, we head to Akron today. We have dinner with your parents and stay overnight. Friday morning we head to Cleveland to pick up Phoebe, then drive down to Walkerville and stay at my mother's place. Saturday night we show everyone how awesome we are at the reunion."

Casey grinned at his fiancée. "Sounds like a plan, boss."

"Your parents should be happy that we have wedding details for them."

"Oh yes. It'll be like pointing a stick at an alligator's mouth to keep it from biting you."

The two climbed into Keesha's Nissan. "Now for the fun part, DC traffic!" she said. Both raised their arms in fake excitement.

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19 12:48 PM SOMEWHERE IN EASTERN PENNSYLVANIA**

Tim stopped at a McDonalds and woke up DA. "Hey sleepyhead, figured we could use some grub and a chance to stretch our legs."

DA groggily nodded in the affirmative. The two went inside, ordered, and sat down in an uneasy silence.

Finally, DA spoke up. "Why is this so awkward?"

Tim mulled it over. "We haven't seen each other in a while, so naturally it's going to take a while to get our bearings. Plus, we are two very different people."

Dorothy Ann raised an eyebrow, so Tim continued. "Think about it. We always hung out in the group, but never much together. You were busy with studying and activities and striving for greatness, and I was busy with my art work. Don't get me wrong. I consider you one of my best friends just like I do the others, but there was never a lot of one-on-one time between us, so it makes sense that it would be awkward now that all this time has passed."

DA thought a moment before responding. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm sorry, Tim. I certainly didn't mean to ignore you in high school."

"No need to apologize. There were eight of us, each with our own thing going. No way could we all be equally close to one another. Plus, I could have stood to be more outgoing at the time."

DA nodded. "True. You always were hanging back, usually sketching."

Tim smiled. "Well, you guys made great models for sketching with the crap we did."

"Do you regret being so quiet?"

"A little bit. Do you regret being so obsessed with studying and being the best?"

"Yeah, a little bit. I know I missed out on some things because of it."

Tim leaned forward. "Well, look at this way, Doctor. You don't have to study for anything this weekend. So, I prescribe you let loose a little and have some fun."

DA couldn't help but laugh. "OK, but I prescribe that you put away the art tools for the reunion so the rest of us can get to know you a little better."

"Deal," Tim said as they shook hands.

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19 6:34 PM WALKERVILLE REC CENTER**

_Crack_

Ralphie let out a small smile. That was the kind of contact he used to make with regularity.

_Crack_

Despite everything that had happened, going to the batting cages was one of his favorite methods of relaxation. He still loved baseball, and for the time being, this was the best he could do to keep playing. Those in town kept begging him to start playing American Legion ball, but Ralphie still wasn't sure his knees could handle it.

_Crack_

Ralphie's thoughts turned to the reunion, which for him would start tomorrow when Carlos and Martina stopped by for a drink. Ralphie found himself becoming more and more nervous about it. Carlos was his best friend in the group (although Carlos's best friend was DA), but even he didn't know the full extent of Ralphie's mental suffering over the years. He still wasn't sure how much he should share with his friends. He didn't want to bum them out during what should be a happy occasion. In addition, he felt extra pressure as the only one still residing for the long term in Walkerville. It made him the de facto host of the reunion. The gang would meet at his place on Saturday night before heading to the school.

_Crack_

Ralphie quieted those thoughts and went back to concentrating on the pitches coming from the machine, back to his happy place where he could pretend they were coming from live pitching in a big stadium.

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19 8:20 PM WALKERVILLE, OH REYNOLDS FAMILY HOME**

"Let me get a good at you, son," Mr. Reynolds said to Tim not two minutes after he entered the house. "Not looking too bad. I was afraid you'd look like a skeleton."

"Dad, for the last time, I'm not destitute and I eat regularly."

"Tim, we waited for you to get here before eating," chimed in Mrs. Reynolds. "Please, sit down."

"Thanks Mom."

The family sat down to eat. They talked about how Tim was doing in New York, and how his two sisters (one older and one younger) were living their lives. The older sister, Jane, was five months pregnant with her first child, while the younger, Bianca, had just entered grad school. At one point, Tim mentioned the scrap metal for Annie. His father agreed on the condition that Tim work in the garage the next day. The meal concluded with the Reynolds family having a glass of their one of a kind grain alcohol (for which the only legal use is to strip varnish off speedboats).

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19 8:56 PM WALKERVILLE, OH PARKER RESIDENCE**

"So, Dorothy Ann, have you given any thought about what your specialty will be?"

DA was far from surprised that her father, the original Dr. Parker, asked that question within the first ten minutes of her arriving. Luckily she knew it was coming and had an answer prepared.

"Well, certainly not gynecology, no matter what the old fossil attendings at my hospital think I should do."

Mrs. Parker nodded emphatically. "Certainly dear. Don't let anyone pigeonhole you, especially those that still wish the only women in a hospital were nurses in short skirts."

Mr. Dr. Parker agreed, "Absolutely, but what will your specialty be?"

DA continued. "I've been leaning towards cardiology. The whole circulatory system is fascinating to me, and I have an in with the department head, so I should be able to get into the program in a few months."

Her father, who was a pulmonologist, gave a look of approval. "It's not quite following my footsteps, but cardiology is good, and they are always in high demand."

"Good. That means I can get out of Hartford at some point."

DA's parents continued to pepper her with questions about work and her life in general. It didn't take long for her to get tired of it and to try and change the subject. "So, how's Evan doing?"

"She's, um, doing OK. Doing her best to make it," Mrs. Parker stumbled. The youngest of the Parker sisters, Evan rebelled from the culture of academic achievement. Instead, she threw herself into dancing, and was currently traveling the Midwest with a troupe she helped start.

Internally, DA sighed. Evan was doing what she loved, and while her parents didn't try to stop it, DA wished they respected it more.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 9:07 AM CLEVELAND GREYHOUND STATION**

Casey had an arm around Keesha for two reasons while they waited for Phoebe. One reason was for protection given the sketchy area they were in. The other reason was to try and calm her down while she ranted.

"She is never doing this again! I don't care what the cost of a plane ticket is! We'll figure it out and make it work! This is insane!"

"Keesh, what's done is done," Casey interjected. "Look, I think I see her bus."

As if on cue, Phoebe emerged from the bus, looking very tired and somewhat disheveled. When she saw Keesha, she immediately perked up. The two women ran towards each other and shared a long embrace. They also began speaking at a frenetic pace and at a pitch normally reversed for whistles only dogs can hear.

Casey laughed to himself and grabbed the bags Phoebe had dropped in her haste. The women broke their embrace and Phoebe turned to him. "Hey, Casey."

Casey gave her a hug. "Hello, woman I compete with for Keesha's love."

Phoebe giggled and kissed his cheek. "And don't you forget it."

At that moment, Keesha's phone rang. "Sorry guys, it's an interview subject. I have to take this." She put the phone to her ear. "Keesha Franklin speaking…Hello, Mr. Davis…"

Casey looked at Phoebe. "Her work is never done."

"I know the feeling," Phoebe replied.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 10:42 AM ALEXANDRIA, VA**

Arnold and Kathleen walked back to their SUV, having just dropped their son off at Kathleen's parents for the weekend. Both had the forlorn look of new parents leaving their child for the first time, even if it wasn't.

"Why is it we're always so sad to leave Stephen, but he's always so excited?" Kathleen wondered.

"Because he knows his grandparents are going to spoil him rotten the next two days, which will get him off his routine, which we will then have to spend a week trying to undo the damage," Arnold replied. "Don't worry. By Sunday he'll be begging for his Mommy."

"And his Daddy too."

Arnold shrugged. "Eh, could go either way on that."

Kathleen laughed. "Is that the persona you want to show your friends for this reunion? The 'woe-is-me' Arnold?"

"Hey, I've told you before. My self-confidence solely comes from you being crazy enough to fall in love with me."

Kathleen shook her head. "Flatterer."

They merged on I-270 and promptly hit bumper-to-bumper traffic, eliciting a simultaneous "D'oh!"

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 1:27 PM CINCINNATI, OH**

"Carlos, get your ass out here already!"

Her boyfriend's slowness was trying Martina's patience. After what felt like an eternity, Carlos came out with the rest of his luggage. As usual, he was grinning like nothing was wrong.

"Hey babe."

"Don't 'hey babe' me, Carlos. I've been sitting out here for 15 minutes. What took you so long?"

"You know, just making sure I had the perfect outfit for tomorrow night."

Martina just glared at him. "I'm the girl in this relationship, right?"

Carlos grinned again. "Of course, but I'm proud of my metrosexual self."

Martina smiled in spite of herself. "I can never seem to stay mad at you, can I?"

"Nope. I'm just that charming and you're just that awesome."

The couple got into their used Honda. "Why can't we have a more kick-ass car again?" Carlos asked.

"Because it doesn't make sense to sink a bunch of money in an asset that depreciates as fast as a vehicle does," Martina playfully lectured.

"I love it when you speak nerdy accountant to me."

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 4:23 PM WALKERVILLE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL**

Wanda knew it was insane, but she didn't care. Tomorrow she would seeing the whole Frizzle gang for the first time in years, and it was making her more and more nervous. She didn't want to talk about it with her mother, and certainly not her brother, so the only possible person left was their beloved former teacher. Wanda couldn't be sure if the Friz still remembered her. Hell, she wasn't even sure Ms. Frizzle was still around, but there was only one way to find out.

Wanda reached the school only to find it virtually deserted. Wanda slapped her head. _It's summer and there's no school, you idiot!_ Undeterred completely though, Wanda searched around looking for at least some assurance that Ms. Frizzle was still around somewhere. She went to where the Bus was usually parked back in the day, but there was no sign of it. She peered through the window into their old third grade classroom, but there was no obvious clues that it was still Ms. Frizzle's classroom. Unwilling to break into the school, Wanda sighed and walked away.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 6:12 PM WALKERVILLE CEMETERY**

_This doesn't get any easier, does it?_ Keesha thought as her, her mother, and Casey visited the gravestone of her grandmother. Casey didn't know the elder Mrs. Franklin very well, but held Keesha's hand for support as she and her mother talked to the gravestone. Keesha noted that her grandmother had the honor of knowing certain wedding details before anyone else.

At some point, the trio noticed Phoebe and her father down the road visiting Phoebe's mother's grave, their bikes tethered together and leaning on the oak tree near Mrs. Terese's headstone. Keesha couldn't help but laugh as they walked towards the Tereses. Phoebe noticed them and met them halfway. The two best friends shared an understanding hug.

Keesha's mother spoke first. "Did you girls talk about this beforehand?"

Phoebe shook her head, arm still around Keesha. "No ma'am, I fell asleep in the car ride back to Walkerville."

"Well, maybe you mind melded again," Mrs. Franklin continued. "Mark, our daughters do not look ready to separate. Would you and Phoebe like to have dinner with us at our house?"

Mr. Terese smiled. "Not to speak for Phoebe, but we would like that very much, Sheila. Thank you."

Casey fake groaned. "We're not getting any alone time this weekend, are we Keesh?"

"Ha! It's cute that you even thought that," retorted Keesha as she let go of Phoebe and kissed him.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 7:38 PM WALKERVILLE, OH RALPHIE'S HOUSE**

_Payoff pitch to Santana…got him looking for the first out. _

_Click._ Ralphie sighed as he failed yet again to get through a baseball game on TV. Luckily before he could get too down, the doorbell rang. Waiting on the other side were Carlos and Martina.

"Hey bro, how you doing?" Ralphie said with a huge grin as he and Carlos gave each other the half man-hug.

"Excellent dude. Great to be back in the old stomping grounds, and look, I'm in a cop's house for legitimate purposes! Take that old people who look at me funny on the streets!"

Ralphie just looked at him. "Yep, still the same Carlos." He turned to Martina and they gave each other the European cheek kissing greeting, "How are you, Martina?"

"I'm alright. It's been a pleasant evening, save for when Carlos's mother looked at my left hand, saw nothing, and blurted out 'So I see you two are still in living in sin.' That part was a blast."

Carlos laughed nervously as his face reddened. Ralphie came to his rescue. "Ah, good old Catholic guilt. We didn't ask for it, but it was given to us anyway."

Martina smiled. "You said it. Where is the bathroom? I need to, freshen up, as you anglophiles say."

Ralphie pointed. "Second door to the left down that hall. Want a beer?"

"Whiskey on the rocks please."

"Done and done. Beer, Carlos?"

"Of course."

The two went into the kitchen. Once he heard the bathroom door close, Ralphie smacked Carlos's arm. "You still haven't asked her to marry you yet? What the hell are you waiting for?"

Carlos put up his hands in defense. "Chill man, chill. We've been ring shopping and have one picked out. I just need to pay it off a little more before I get it and officially propose."

"So it's definitely happening?"

"Yes, but you're the only one that knows that."

"You didn't tell your parents?"

"What good will that do? It's not like I need their permission. It's between Martina and me only. They'll find out when it actually happens like everyone else"

Ralphie rubbed his chin. "Won't you need to ask her father's permission?"

Carlos laughed. "You've met Martina, right? She'd flip if I pulled such…let's see, how does she put it…antiquated misogynistic horseshit."

"She does have a way with words," Ralphie said as he handed Carlos a beer and poured Martina's whiskey.

At that moment, Martina reappeared. She immediately peered at Carlos. "You told him about the ring shopping, didn't you?"

"How did you know?"

"The walls in this house aren't that thick. However, for a single guy, I'm impressed by the cleanliness of the place. Good on you, Ralphie."

"Thanks," Ralphie replied as he handed Martina her drink. "So, you're not mad at Carlos for spilling?"

"No. I figured it'd get out sooner or later on this trip. I'm just impressed he kept it from his parents."

"Hey, Ramons can keep secrets sometimes."

Ralphie and Martina immediately convulsed in laughter.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 9:21 PM WALKERVILLE INN**

Arnold finished brushing his teeth and walked back to the living area of their hotel room. He found his wife reading a book and stifling a yawn.

"C'mon honey, we finally have some alone time. You can't fall asleep on me now."

Kathleen put down her book. "I chase a toddler around most days, and today I had to deal with your parents trying to poke holes in my life and how I raise my son, so excuse me for being tired."

"I know. I'm sorry. I try to get them to stop, but it's not easy."

Kathleen smiled at her husband. "I know. You defend me, and that's all I can ask. Now, what do you have in mind with this 'alone time'?"

"You're about to find out," Arnold said as he turned out the light, his voice an octave lower than normal.

**FRIDAY, JUNE 20 10:37 PM PARKER RESIDENCE**

Dorothy Ann stood on the balcony of her old room, looking out her old telescope at the night sky. How she missed living in an area with enough darkness to see the stars, and how she missed having the time to do so.

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 10:14 AM WALKERVILLE COFFEE SHOP**

Phoebe found an open table and sat down. She fidgeted with her hands and coffee, wondering what Mrs. Hopkins wanted. After waiting a few minutes, Phoebe saw a slightly plump woman in her late 50s walking towards her. The woman radiated a certain elegance despite being dressed normally (not too casual, but not too formal) and wearing little makeup. This was Julia Hopkins, long-time Director of the Walkerville Animal Shelter.

"Phoebe! Great to see you," Mrs. Hopkins exclaimed as she went in for a hug.

"You too, Mrs. Hopkins. How's the shelter doing?"

"It's doing wonderful. How's San Francisco? Did you finally get a dog?"

"San Francisco's great. Work and other things keep me plenty busy. No dog yet." Phoebe inherently sighed at that fact. "I couldn't keep a dog cooped up in a tiny apartment all day, so no dog until I get a house. However, my roommate has a cat and she's very cute!"

"Someday, Phoebe. In fact, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about." Phoebe leaned forward in her seat as Mrs. Hopkins continued. "The shelter is looking for a new Associate Director, and we hope that it will lead to succeeding me as Director in a few years. I can't go on forever, and I want to make sure the shelter's in good hands after I retire."

Phoebe was dumbfounded. "Me? You're offering me the job?"

"Unofficially yes. The board knows and they definitely want to at least see your resume and interview you."

"But I don't have administrative experience." Phoebe paused. "And I'm not sure that's what I want to do."

"As for the first concern, nonsense. You have almost twenty years of non-profit experience, and it would be more if I had given in to a certain little girl who begged to volunteer before she was old enough." Mrs. Hopkins smirked as she told the last part. "Also, while you were here, you didn't just clean litter boxes. You were involved with budgeting and fundraising too. If I remember correctly, you're a bit of a budget whiz, right?"

Phoebe blushed, but had to acknowledge the praise. "I live in one of the most expensive cities in the country on a social worker's salary, and you know what it was for me growing up, so I guess so."

"Exactly," Mrs. Hopkins continued. "As for the second concern, that's something you'll have to figure out, and I certainly don't expect a response now. Think about it. You know how slow the wheels of bureaucracy are. It'll still be a few months before we hire, but please, let me know if you're interested as soon as you can."

"I will."

"Good." Mrs. Hopkins stood up. "Unfortunately, I have to go, but it was nice seeing you Phoebe, and believe me, I wouldn't be letting you know about this job if I didn't you could do it *and* do my job someday. I would groom you for it."

Phoebe blushed again. "Um, thanks. I'll think about it."

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 10:36 AM WALKERVILLE SYNAGOGUE**

Kathleen mouthed the prayers and phonetically pronounced the Hebrew the best she could. Otherwise, she politely listened to the service. The night before, she and Arnold promised his parents they would attend Temple the next morning. It was essentially what the two negotiated after they stayed at a hotel instead of the Perlstein home.

After the service, the congregation was mulling about. Arnold had gone to the restroom, and his parents predictably chose that moment to approach Kathleen.

Mr. Perlstein spoke first. "I hope things weren't too uncomfortable for you."

Kathleen smiled as sweetly as she could. "Not at all. I always feel welcome here."

"Well, when are you going to start taking Stephen to Temple?" Mrs. Perlstein cut in. "Have you and Arnold even discussed what religion you will raise him?"

"Judith, is this conversation necessary right now?" Mr. Perlstein tried to intervene.

Kathleen put her hand up. "No, it's OK. We haven't really thought about it yet. My family's not very religious, but I'm guessing we'll expose Stephen to different things and let him decide when he's old enough. Honestly, right now my main concern is getting him fully toilet trained."

Before Mrs. Perlstein could rebut, Arnold returned. He noticed yet more tension between his wife and his mother. "So, what are you all talking about?"

"I was just about to convince Kathleen that it's about time to start taking Stephen to Temple," Mrs. Perlstein replied.

"Well Mom, to us he's a little young for that. He's two. We can't get him to sit still for five minutes, much less for a full hour service."

"But you are going to raise him Jewish, right?"

"He will certainly be taught his heritage, but both Kathleen and I feel that he should make his own choice. Whatever he chooses is OK with us."

Mrs. Perlstein sighed, but before she could open her mouth, Arnold opened his. "Mom, I don't know why you feel the need to criticize our parenting decisions, or why you seem to not like Kathleen, but it's gotten beyond old." Arnold put his arm around Kathleen. "This woman is the love of my life and the mother of my child. If you would actually make an effort, I bet you could learn to love her as much as I do, but if you're not going try." Arnold paused to gather strength. "Then there's only so much of us you're going to see, and that includes your grandson. I don't want to do that, but I'm not going to stand here and let you make snide comments towards my wife." He turned to Kathleen. "C'mon, let's go back to the hotel and get ready for the reunion." The two left Arnold's parents looking chastened and a bit stunned.

As Arnold and Kathleen left the synagogue, she turned to him. "There's part of me that should hate you having to defend me like that, but I'm damn glad you did."

Arnold hugged her. "Anytime."

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 1:34 PM TERESE HOUSE**

Phoebe spent the late morning and early afternoon riding her bike around town, trying to get her thoughts together. On the surface, the job offer was a dream come true. Phoebe was passionate about many things, but helping animals was forever her biggest passion of all. She couldn't discount the allure of coming back home either. All of her best friends would be no worse than a day trip away, and her father would be right there. Phoebe knew he could take of himself, and asked for help from neighbors and his older brother when necessary, but she still worried about him. She knew one day it would be up to her to take care of him.

At the same time though, she had built a life in San Francisco. It was fresh and exciting. New things happened. She felt that she was making a difference in peoples' lives at both her paid and volunteer work. She was helping hundreds of people improve their lives, and the thought of abandoning them made Phoebe's skin crawl.

She returned to the tiny house that her family lived at ever since her mother's death forced them to downsize. She entered the house to find her father sipping tea in the living room.

"Hey sweetheart," Mr. Terese greeted. "You were out longer than I expected. How was the meeting with Mrs. Hopkins?"

"Hi Daddy. It was…eventful," Phoebe replied in a careful tone.

"You sound like you have something on your mind. Want to talk about it?"

"Yes, thank you." Phoebe sat down next to Mr. Terese on the couch. "Mrs. Hopkins all but offered me a job as Associate Director of the animal shelter, with the expectation that I would become Director when she retires in a few years."

"Wow! That sounds like a great opportunity."

"Well," Phoebe twirled her fingers in nervousness. "I'm not sure I should take it. I love what I do in San Francisco, and I would feel rotten leave my cases like that."

Mr. Terese nodded. "I understand. It can't be an easy decision."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Selfishly, I would love you to be home again. Seeing you once or twice a year isn't ideal, but I can't make this decision for you, and you know that."

"This is home, isn't it?" Phoebe said softly, almost to herself.

"Phoebe, I taught you to follow your heart, right?"

"Right."

"Well, your heart took you out West six years ago. Maybe that's where your heart wants to stay, and maybe it wants to come back here. You'll have to look inside and see. You have my support no matter what you decide. Just decide based on what's best for you, not anyone else."

Phoebe wrapped her arms around her father, put her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. "I will, Daddy. Thanks for listening."

"Anytime sweetheart." After a pause, "Hey, don't you have a reunion to get ready for?"

Phoebe's eyes snapped open. The job offer had so consumed her thoughts that she had forgotten the reason she was in Walkerville in the first place. She gave her dad a quick kiss on the check before running to her room. Mr. Terese just laughed.

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 1:55 PM RAMON HOUSE**

Carlos, his parents, and Martina were all glued to the television as the final moments of the Argentina-Iran World Cup match played out. As the match moved into second half stoppage time, Lionel Messi received the ball on the right wing and fired with his left foot into the corner for the game winning goal.

The Ramons stood up and cheered wildly. Martina folded her arms and cursed in clipped Spanish, much less impressed.

"C'mon Martina!" Carlos exclaimed. "Can't you appreciate the greatness of Messi?"

"I can appreciate it just fine when he's playing for club. But for country? Fuck Argentina, and any South American with pride would say the same."

"Messi's no James Rodriguez right, Martina?" Mr. Ramon piped up with a sly grin, referring to the Colombian breakout star of the World Cup.

"Oh James," replied Martina, exaggeratedly swooning onto the couch.

"You would leave me for Rodriguez, wouldn't you?" asked Carlos.

"Of course," said Martina in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

"Anyway, what's the next match?" Mrs. Ramon asked, trying to change the subject.

"Germany-Ghana," replied her husband.

Carlos turned to Martina. "I think we can afford to watch the first half before getting ready for the reunion."

"That works. I need to check and make sure Germany's still on track to win me our bet." The couple had bet a week's worth of chores on who they though would win the Cup. Martina picked Germany. Carlos picked Brazil.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 4:40 PM REYNOLDS FAMILY HOME**

A tired but content Tim was putting the finishing touches on his drawing. It had been a long day and a half working at his father's garage, but hard work never bothered him. After being released by his father at lunch, he immediately headed home to get ready for the reunion. He spent a good part of the afternoon on the phone with Ralphie planning…something for after the official reunion concluded.

For now though, Tim was rushing (well, as much as he could stand rushing artwork) to finish this piece. He had every intention of keeping his promise with Dorothy Ann, so it was imperative he finished before he left.

Finally, Tim made the final stroke of his pencil. He stepped back and took a look, breaking into a satisfied smile. _They are going to freak when they see this._

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 5:18 PM FRANKLIN CONDO**

Casey sat on Keesha's old bed, waiting for her to emerge from the bathroom. Admittedly this wasn't his favored way of spending the weekend with his fiancee, but Keesha tagged along to his reunion the year before, so it was his turn to be the eye candy, as she put it.

Ever since they had met seven years ago, there had been something about Keesha that had intrigued Casey. The way she carried herself was unlike anyone he had seen: the confidence, the determination to know the facts without being a busybody, the focus on how she wanted to live her life. Casey had to do some convincing to get Keesha to let him in. Once she did though, the two found they complimented each other well. Keesha's determination and intensity contrasted with Casey's more easygoing style, and they each kept the other from going too far to one extreme. The years of being in a long distance relationship were hard on the couple, and Casey suspected that was part of the reason wedding plans had been going so slow. Both wanted to enjoy each other a little more before taking the ultimate step, even if both were fully committed to doing so.

Casey's thoughts were interrupted by Keesha entering the bedroom. His eyes couldn't help but grow wide at how gorgeous she looked. Keesha was wearing a green dress that stopped right above the knee. It hugged her curves perfectly. Her hair was up with not a strand out of place, and her makeup was applied so well it looked almost natural.

After a few moments of staring, Keesha took control of the situation. "Like what you see, big boy?" Casey could only nod. "Good."

"You certainly went all out for tonight," Casey said, having finally regained his ability to speak.

"I want to look my best for my friends. It's been too long." Keesha's voice betrayed her nerves.

Casey noticed. "Are you alright, Keesh? I'm sure everything will go fine. We survived my reunion last year, and I'm not nearly as close to my high school friends as you are to yours."

"That's the thing. Because we are so close, there's more pressure. What if the time and distance drifted us apart for good?"

"That didn't seem to be a problem with you and Phoebe, and she's been thousands of miles away. Last night at dinner you two didn't shut up."

"Phoebe and I are different," Keesha replied. "We've been so close for so long that nothing can tear us apart. I don't think anyone in the rest of the group is as close as Phoebe and I are."

Casey nodded. "OK, fair enough, but if you've all made it this far, I don't think you have that much to worry about."

Keesha put her head on his shoulder. "I hope you're right."

Casey put his arm around her. "If I'm not, at least you've got me," he said with a grin.

"At least I've got you," Keesha grinned back.

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 5:26 PM LI HOUSEHOLD**

Wanda looked at herself in the mirror. She was a wearing a glittery sliver dress initially bought in high school that somehow both still fit and didn't look tacky. _Well, this is it. I don't know if I'm ready for this. _The more Wanda stared at herself, the more nervous she got. She wasn't sure if she could hold it together and quell the dark thoughts for the entire reunion. She didn't want to ruin the night for her friends if she couldn't.

Her thoughts were interrupted by William entering the room. "You look good, Wanda," he said with surprising sincerity.

"Get out of-" Wanda started to yell before realizing what he had said. "Thanks, bro."

William used that as courage to continue. "Hey sis, I know we spent most of our childhood fighting, but I just want you to know I'm really glad you're home, and I hope you can forget all the bad stuff you saw and have a great time tonight. You deserve it."

"Aw, thanks little bro. I'm glad to be here too, and to see you. You may be a little shit, but you're _my_ little shit." Wanda wrapped her arms around William.

At that moment, Mrs. Li walked in. She immediately grabbed her phone and started taking pictures. "An actual heartwarming family moment! Hallelujah!"

MOM!

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21 5:57 PM RALPHIE'S HOUSE**

Ralphie paced around his living room, trying to calm his nerves. The plan was for the gang to arrive at his house around six before heading to the reunion at seven, so he expected people at any moment. Ralphie was dressed in a brown suit which, while not tailored specifically to his body, fit just fine. As he paced, he pondered whether something was missing.

_Ah, what the hell_, he thought as he put on his old red ball cap. _Now we're ready_. One minute later, his doorbell rang.

**A/N:** Like Milhouse wanting Itchy and Scratchy to get to the fireworks factory, you're all probably more than ready for the reunion to start. It will next chapter. Thanks for reading to this point.


	11. Chapter 10: The Gang's All Here

**A/N:** As we (finally) get to the reunion, a quick shout out to quirky cricket, who has at times been helping with me some details and giving me encouragement as I struggled through writing the actual reunion. Also just to note, any similarities between this story and "The Theory" (which if you haven't started, stop reading this and go read that) are completely coincidental (or just blame me for it, it's all good).

Ralphie opened the door to find the Perlsteins, each looking splendid: Arnold in a dark suit, Kathleen in a blue dress.

"Hey Arnold! Punctual as ever, I see," said Ralphie as the two went in for the first of many bro-hugs that night.

"Of course. Good to see you Ralphie. Nice choice on the ball cap."

"Thanks." Ralphie turned to Kathleen. "Nice to see you too. Is your father still mad at me about the wedding?"

She chuckled. "No, I think he got over it, at least once you finally paid the dry cleaning bill."

The three of them chatted for a few minutes until the doorbell rang again. This time it was Carlos and Martina.

"The party can start now because the masters of getting funky are here!" Carlos exclaimed. He was wearing a purple tuxedo with matching top hat without a hint of subtlety.

Arnold gave a look to Martina. "You let him go out in public looking like that?"

Martina shrugged. "Hey, if he wants to look like an idiot, that's his problem. I don't know any of these people. Plus he wanted to match." She gestured towards her purple dress.

Carlos scoffed. "You all just don't recognize awesome when you see it." He lightly tugged at his lapels in mock disgust.

Before the group could further make fun of Carlos, the doorbell rang again, bringing Tim and Dorothy Ann into the fold.

"Hey, are you two shacking up already?" Ralphie asked.

Tim rolled his eyes. "No, she had the wheels, and all I have down here is an old motorcycle, which wouldn't work in these clothes." Tim caught a look at Carlos. "Dude, why do you look like a 1970s era pimp?"

"No one appreciates a classic look," argued Carlos.

"That's because you look ridiculous," DA piped up. Ever the traditionalist, she was wearing a simple black dress that went down past the knee with a slit giving those that wanted it a look at her legs.

"Love you too, DA," snarked Carlos, although he was clearly enjoying the attention.

Tim looked around, trying to change the subject. "So we're missing Wanda and the Twins." (The Twins being the gang's nickname for Keesha and Phoebe due to their inseparableness and ability to communicate seemingly by wavelength.)

"I've seen Wanda around town, so she has no excuses," noted Ralphie.

Just at that moment, there was a distinct three toned knock on the door. For the Walkerville five, it was unmistakably the knock Wanda used every time she showed up at their houses. Ralphie opened the door, and the five wasted no time in practically smothering the Air Force veteran.

"Hey! I missed you guys too, but damn it, let me breathe," Wanda yelled.

"Sorry Wanda," started DA. "We've been worried about your safety for years, so it's natural we're going to be excited to have you in the flesh."

"Ugh, you sound like my Mom!" Wanda said in irritation. "If I had a dollar for every time I've heard something like that…" She suddenly ran out of steam. "Ah, why fight it. C'mon in, but one at a time."

The cacophony grew as the now eight gathered chatted away waiting for the final three. Before those not named Wanda (who was getting tired of the attention) could get impatient, the doorbell rang and in walked Keesha, Casey, and Phoebe.

"Well look who it is. The Adams family and their very tall appendage." Carlos joked, snapping his fingers as done on the TV show.

_CARLOS!_

"Hmmm…stupid jokes, stupid outfit. You haven't changed a bit have you, Ramon," retorted Keesha. She turned to look at her fiancée, who to her surprise was smiling. "What? I thought it was funny."

_CASEY!_

Phoebe used that moment to peek around the African American couple and into the view of the rest. Her eyes happily locked on Wanda, but the Asian had the first say.

"Holy shit! The hippie learned to dress herself!"

The rest of the group took their own look at Phoebe, and their non-verbal reactions indicated a similar belief. They were used to Phoebe wearing flannel, jeans, or any random combination of clothes that would fit. Tonight, however, she was wearing a red dress that almost looked tailored to fit her, even though they all knew she couldn't afford that. What little makeup she had on, while not as flawless as Keesha's, at least looked competently applied. The outfit was finished off with low heeled red shoes that for once didn't look like boats on her large feet.

"Um, thanks Wanda," stammered Phoebe. "When you attend as many fundraisers as I do, you eventually learn some things."

"Pheebs, that dress is making me jealous," said Martina. "Where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" Phoebe looked down at herself, blushed, and tried to sound modest. "It's amazing what you can find buried in a consignment shop and make like new with some do-it-yourself alternations."

"OK then. Now that we've all realized our little Pheebs is actually grown up," Keesha interrupted, "she has some very important Maid of Honor business to share." She handed Phoebe a piece of paper. "Read this."

"You are all humbly asked to save the date of July 18, 2015 in order to attend the wedding of Casey Joseph Adams and Keesha Marie Franklin," Phoebe read, her voice growing higher in excitement as she did so. "The service will be held at the Walkerville Presbyterian Church."

The group cheered. "Bout time!" yelled multiple people.

"Thank you. Thank you," Casey said, mock bowing. "You'll receive that in the mail in a few weeks."

"We figured if we got that out of the way now, we wouldn't have to hear about it the rest of the night," Keesha added.

"Well then, now that the gang's all here, let's head to the reunion," Ralphie suggested.

The group nodded their agreement, and off they went. As they headed out of Ralphie's house, Phoebe noticed a certain purple clad gentleman.

"Oh Carlos, you look just like Willy Wonka!"

_PHOEBE!_

"Well, they certainly went all out for this," Keesha said in her most sarcastic tone.

The gang had arrived at the Walkerville High School gym for the reunion, and admittedly the decorations left much to be desired. There was a lazily hung banner from the rafters stating WELCOME CLASS OF 2004. There was a table at one end with some snack food and two red and white balloons on each end. At the other end was a makeshift dance floor with a semi-interested DJ manning the turntables. The rest of the floor had tables of various lengths for groups to sit together.

"Well, organizing this was probably the responsibility of the class officers, so…" Carlos trailed off as the gang all stared at Dorothy Ann.

"Don't look at me! No way would I have had time for even this," the former class president stated in her defense. "I guess the other officers took care of it. I'm sure they did their best."

"OK, but remember DA, this is the one of the reasons we elected you instead of Janet," Keesha remarked. "Speaking of the she devil, is your insane cousin coming to this, Arnold?"

"Nope," replied Arnold. "She says she's too busy with her 'awesome' PR job and all her new 'exciting' clients." From the corner of his eye, he could see Tim and Phoebe both mouth _Thank God_. "I'd say she sends her regards, but that would be a lie."

Wanda headed towards one of the tables. "C'mon guys, let's snag one of these big tables before more people arrive. Steal three of those chairs over there so we have enough," she commanded.

The gang settled into what would be their home base for the evening, a long table in the back near the refreshment table. Ralphie sat on one end, with Carlos immediately to his right, followed by Martina, Dorothy Ann, Tim, and Phoebe at the end of that side. On Ralphie's immediate left sat Arnold, followed by Kathleen, Casey, and Keesha. Wanda sat on the other end.

The group quickly settled into mini-groups discussing various topics. Keesha and Casey asked Arnold and Kathleen for wedding advice ("Keep the guest list as low as possible and don't give in to anything your parents say."). DA and Martina shared "idiot Carlos" stories ("I'm sitting right here ladies!"), while Tim and Phoebe shared living in the big city stories ("So many rats." "Hey, they have the right to live too!"). Ralphie and Wanda, meanwhile, kept trying to put their two cents into every conversation at once.

As things progressed, the conversations and the groups involved ebbed and flowed. The room began to fill up with other former classmates. From time and time they approached the group to catch up. One in particular piqued their interest.

"What's Harry Arm doing here?" Arnold asked. "He was in the class before ours."

"Oh, hadn't your heard?" Ralphie asked in response. "He married Florrie last year. The two hadn't seen each other in years, than randomly see each other at the store. One thing led to another, and here they are."

"That bitch settled down!" Wanda said a little too loudly, eliciting some looks throughout the gym. She let out an awkward laugh and stiffly waived. "Congrats you two!"

"And at 7:38 pm, Wanda makes an ass of herself for the first time tonight," Keesha remarked while looking at her watch. "I'm impressed by your restraint. The Air Force did some good for you." Wanda stuck her tongue out in response.

"So Ralphie, how is it here in Walkerville these days?" Phoebe quickly asked, trying to defuse any potential tension.

Ralphie thought it over, secretly hating that this question came to him by default. "It feels smaller than it did when we were kids, you know? Patrolling the town doesn't take too long. I guess you don't notice those things when you're a kid and everything seems so big. It's gentrifying more too I think, as the younger crowd from Columbus starts moving in. Not much to do for a police officer except occasionally break up some parties…"

"Stop Ralphie! You're rambling!" Wanda interrupted and got right to the point. "Have you see Miss Frizzle around?" The others looked at Ralphie expectantly.

He rubbed his chin. "Come to think of it, no I haven't. I take a peek every time I'm near the elementary school, but no sign of the Friz or the Bus."

That admission cast a pall on the gang, who all looked down at once. The significant others reacted with a mix of bemusement (Martina) and understanding (Kathleen). After an uncomfortable silence, Carlos stood up.

"I'm hungry. Let's see what the grub is like." Martina followed. "Me too. I wonder if anyone has spiked the punch yet." She noticed the looks she was getting. "Relax, I'm not going to be the one to do it. I left my liquor at home. It's too good to waste on a simple spiking."

Kathleen turned to Arnold. "This music isn't that great, but I need to get up and dance like an adult for once." She stuck out her hand. Arnold took it and led her to the dance floor.

Casey looked at Keesha. "That seems like a good idea." Keesha smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we gotta teach these clowns some moves."

Left at the table were Wanda, Phoebe, Tim, DA, and Ralphie. "We've been abandoned by the couples," Tim noted.

Wanda stood up. "I'm with them. I haven't shaken my moneymaker in so long. Ralphie, you're coming with me. You still owe me for pulling me over."

Ralphie sighed, but stood up as well. "How long am I going to owe you for something that was your own fault?"

"Til I say so."

The other three looked on in shock. "You pulled her over, Ralphie?!" DA asked, trying to stifle a laugh. She wasn't succeeding and neither were Tim and Phoebe.

"Yes, I'll tell you later."

"No you won't!"

Ralphie and Wanda continued to argue as they headed to the dance floor. Tim just shook his head. "We are quite a group."

DA concurred. "We sure are." She looked over to Phoebe, who seemed to be staring off into space. "Pheebs, are you alright?"

Phoebe turned towards DA in surprise. "Oh! Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about something, that's all." Anticipating DA's next question, she added, "No, I don't want to talk about it."

DA gave her a puzzled look. "OK." She turned to Tim. "Wanna dance or get something to eat?"

"Well, you know damn well I don't dance, but I could eat. Want anything, Pheebs?"

"No thanks guys, I'm OK."

The two of them headed for the refreshment table, leaving Phoebe alone at the big table. She looked around the gym at her friends: some eating, some dancing, Carlos modeling his outfit while Martina looked on in amusement. Her thoughts were broken by her phone. She looked at the text it contained and gasped in surprise.


End file.
